


Sweet Submissive Sixteen

by caribouandcake



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-22
Packaged: 2017-11-26 12:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 69,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/650472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caribouandcake/pseuds/caribouandcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After coming into his Inheritance as a 'submissive male' vampire, Ichigo is kidnapped by three dominants. But what seems like your everyday hostage situation quickly turns out to be much more. GrimmjowxShiroxRenji/Ichigo AU polygamy/polyamory mpreg</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Birthday Wishes

Ichigo Kurosaki had always led an unusual life. Ever since he could remember, he'd never done the expected. With his brightly hued sunset orange hair and contradictory personality - brash yet introverted- he was the exception to all rules.

He'd been orphaned before he'd reached his first birthday, a distant relative dropping him off at an inner city orphanage apparently without a second thought. No one could tell him who his parents had been or how they'd died as that relative hadn't given any information besides his name.

The orangette lived in that awful orphanage until he was around six years old (he was never quite sure of his age, not knowing his birthday) and a nobleman visited to possibly locate a companion for his charge, the younger sister of his deceased wife. He'd made the mistake of bringing the girl along with him for her tough exterior scared off all of the children. Or almost all of them, actually.

Ichigo remembered that day vividly, when he met Rukia Kuchiki and her adoptive older brother, Byakuya. The pint-sized girl had glared at him with those wide violet eyes of hers and when the boy didn't scurry away in fear but instead scowled back fiercely it had been the start of a beautiful friendship.

He'd been taken to live at the Kuchiki Manor, the somewhat secluded, ancient estate located in the outer ring of the province they lived in; that being Rukongai. On the first night the aristocrat had informed in a tone far too severe to be used with a child that he and Rukia were vampires, or the latter would be when she reached her Inheritance.

See, Rukongai's population was near equally split in half between humans and vampires so Ichigo had known plenty of the immortal beings beforehand and so didn't even blink at the information. Vampires were really not much different from humans, he thought. They only had scientifically baffling qualities like living off of the blood of humans, enhanced strength and senses, and extraordinary mental abilities.

Ichigo and Rukia grew up like brother and sister despite one being human and the other vampire.

Life for the orangette turned relatively normal and since this just would not do, Fate had to shuffle up her deck of cards and deal one that blindsided not only Ichigo himself, but the entire Rukongai vampire population as well.

Because he couldn't do anything by the book, never ever. He would always and forever be unusual.

Ichigo woke from a deep slumber precisely one minute before midnight on the fourteenth of the July of his sixteenth year.

His tangerine honey-colored hair clung to the skin on his face that was damp with sweat and flushed a dark rosy pink. The teenager threw the quilted duvet off of him, disappointed when it did nothing to lessen the unnatural heat he felt coursing through him. Not only this but his breath was coming in shallow, rapid gasps, as if he'd just run a great distance. His chest heaved up and down as he brought one hand to his heated forehead, eyelids fluttering open.

Unfocused ochre orbs traveled the room from underneath vermillion eyelashes until they stopped on the grandfather clock set in the corner just as both hands struck twelve.

The orangette groaned when he felt a sudden, sharp ache in his abdomen and he clutched the front of his nightshirt, curling up into a ball as the waves of pain washed over him. When the feeling, akin to having white hot pokers stab him repeatedly, didn't dissipate within the minute Ichigo determined he needed to get help, and quickly.

However, this was easier said than done considering when he tried to push himself to a sitting position he found all of his strength had been sapped, leaving him as weak as a newborn lamb. Swearing under his breath as the feeling in his stomach heightened in its intensity, he licked his dry lips, swallowed a couple of times, and silently prayed that someone in his household was still awake despite the late hour.

What was happening to him? This didn't feel like any ordinary illness.

"Help!" he cried out, forcing his lungs to take in as much air as possible to make projecting his voice easier. "Somebody help me!"

Ichigo went to call out again but a swell of agonizing pain ten times worse than before overwhelmed him and even in the darkness of his bedroom, his vision blurred and faded in and out at the sensation. It was like his insides were on fire and he was burning from the inside out. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes and a few spilled over as he gasped at the pain.

Was this the end then? Would he really die right there in his bedroom completely alone?

The teenager thought he would go insane from the unknown torture when the door to the hallway flung open. He peered through tear-impaired eyes to see a small, almost child-like figure standing in the threshold, only the familiar, petite face of Rukia Kuchiki visible from the light of the candle she held in her hand.

"Ichigo!" she said, rushing forward so that her linen nightclothes billowed around her, giving her the appearance of a midnight spectre. "What's wrong?" Her voice was loud but unsteady as she took in her friend's condition, obviously at a loss of what to do.

"S-stomach... hurts," the orangette managed to say through clenched teeth. Rukia's already impossibly wide, violet eyes enlarged even further and she sat the candle and its holder on the night table by Ichigo's bed, leaning over his now shaking form. With one tiny hand she hesitantly reached out to push his upper lip up and to the side, inhaling sharply when she must have seen something that alarmed her.

"I'm going to get my brother, Ichigo. Just hold on, everything's going to be okay," Rukia said, her words rushed and breathless. Then she fled from the room, leaving behind the candle with the tiny flicker of flame that only seemed to make the darkness of the room that much more sinister as it cast its unstable light on the walls.

Ichigo thought it was strange that the girl had moved his lips aside as if checking his teeth. He'd told her it was his stomach that was causing him indescribable agony at that moment, not his mouth, so it didn't really make sense why she would do such a thing.

Unless...

If he'd had the energy, the orangette would have shaken his head at the simply preposterous scenarios his mind provided just then. This wasn't anything momentous, his stomach most likely reacting badly to whatever he'd eaten for dinner that evening, very badly.

Even he couldn't convince himself to believe that. For some reason, he knew that whatever was happening was nothing ordinary.

Ichigo sobbed as not only the pains in his abdomen persisted but his head started to throb with the worst headache he'd ever experienced and he felt bile rise up in his throat, making him dry heave for a few seconds before two shadowy figures appeared in the doorway. He recognized them as Rukia returning to his room with her older, adoptive brother that she'd obviously pulled from bed as he was also dressed in his nightclothes, though still intimidating as ever.

Ichigo managed to posture his head over the side of his bed before he was violently sick all over the hardwood floor.

"Rukia, please fetch Ms. Matsumoto from the servant quarters and inform her of what is happening. Then the both of you are to return here immediately," a severe tenor voice said, the orangette barely able to make out the words over the sounds of his illness and the blood pounding in his ears. However, there was no mistaking that it could only be his and Rukia's legal guardian, Byakuya Kuchiki.

"Yes, Brother," Rukia said before rushing out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

Ichigo panted for breath as his stomach no longer tried to force its contents to the surface, though the seizing pains there did not cease one bit. He looked up with anguished eyes to where Byakuya was standing closer to his bedside than he expected, the man's aristocratic features no doubt as stoic as ever though the teenager had no way to see them in the dim lighting. However, he was able to make out his guardian bring his own wrist to his mouth, lowering it after a second to reveal the droplets of scarlet blood gathering on the bite wound he'd inflicted upon himself.

"Drink from my wrist," Byakuya said, proffering his slender, pale forearm to Ichigo who tried his best to shake his head in the negative.

"N-no, I...I'm not-"

"Mr. Kurosaki, do as I say or you will not live to see morning." The man didn't wait for a response before pressing his bleeding wrist to the other's parted lips. The younger of the two made an effort to turn his head away, not wanting to do something that to him was utterly unnatural, but he could barely move and when that first drop of blood hit his tongue, all other thoughts besides ones of that crimson liquid vanished. It was sweet and spicy and felt like heaven in his mouth, the single most delectable thing he'd ever tasted. Even the torturous pains in his abdomen were nearly tolerable as he drank deeply, whining in protest when Byakuya pulled his wrist away.

"That is enough for now," he said in his monotonous way. "I cannot believe that after all this time we have never noticed you were one of us."

Ichigo didn't say anything, now again completely pulled under the waves of agony, the pain in his stomach as terrible as ever. He was so confused; just what was happening to him? The orange-haired youth was sure he could figure it out if his mind wasn't so dulled by the pain.

Footsteps by his door alerted both the males in the room to Rukia's return with the curvaceous, strawberry-blonde Rangiku Matsumoto hot on her heels.

"Master Kuchiki, I came as quickly as I could," the latter said, gaze falling on the bed where Ichigo lay curled on his side as he clutched at his abdomen, clearly in massive amounts of pain if his tear-stained cheeks and gasping moans were any clue. "But I don't know if I can do much, I'm only trained to deal with female Inheritances."

"That is why I sent for you; Mr. Kurosaki says it is his abdominal region that is causing him so much pain." Byakuya gestured to the orangette but didn't look away from his employee.

"Oh...oh! I see..." Rangiku trailed off, approaching the bed cautiously, hands extended. Ichigo could make out she was also dressed in her night wear "Well I suppose I can be of some help, then, but I will need a few supplies."

"Anything you require will be provided."

"Thank you, Master Kuchiki. I'll need some rags soaked in cold water, and a dry one, some brandy - not the cheap kind, root tea..."

Even as he listened to the conversation around him, Ichigo felt his eyelids become heavy and his heart rate slow despite the pain he was in. His mind could only withstand so much physical torment before it would shut down in order to protect itself, but still he clung fast to consciousness because perhaps Rangiku would say he'd come down with influenza or food poisoning or some other common illness that would explain his current condition other than what he almost knew for certain it was.

Because it just couldn't be that... it was impossible.

"I've already let him feed from my wrist, will that sustain him throughout?"

"Oh yes, even one good mouthful would do the trick," Rangiku said before leaning over him, running a hand through his hair in a maternal gesture. "You can sleep now, Ichigo; when you wake the worst will be over."

The teenager would have smiled in gratitude or at least nodded if he'd had even an ounce of energy to spare. Instead he let his eyes close, darkness overtaking his senses and minutely dulling the monstrous, aching pains in his abdomen.

"He will be all right, won't he, Rangiku?" he heard Rukia's unusually soft voice say just before his last bit of awareness faded away.

"Ichigo will be fine, he'll just be... different."

When he opened his eyes next, Ichigo was ecstatic to discover that not only did he not feel pain anywhere in his body but that it was morning.

The sunlight filtered in through the translucent, sheer curtains on his windows, brightening his entire bedroom. He was also pleased to notice that he was no longer sweating profusely, body temperature seemingly back to normal as his nightshirt and hair no longer clung to his skin.

Blissful, he pushed himself up to a sitting position, stretching his arms over his head and making the bones in his back crack before he stood to make his way over to where his clothes had been laid out for him like they always were. He never liked to spend precious time sorting through pieces of cloth just so others would be appeased by his comely appearance.

However, Ichigo had to pause in between his bed and the dresser and wonder if the time when he'd awoken in the dead of night to endure the worst pain he'd ever felt and Rukia, Rangiku, and Byakuya had all come to his aid had been nothing but a dream. Surely it had to be, because now he recalled some parts of it that would never ever happen in reality, like the stern aristocrat Byakuya, who still called him by his last name though the man had been his legal guardian for a decade, willingly letting him drink his noble blood from his wrist. The idea was completely absurd, and he felt better than ever, not like he'd just been on his deathbed mere hours before.

Yes, it had all definitely been a very vivid, very painful dream.

The teenager, satisfied with his conclusion, went about dressing in his usual summer, daytime wear- white linen shirt and cotton britches, light blue buttoned vest, and leather boots made especially for riding his prized horse, Zangetsu. Once he was done he made sure to double check in the full-length mirror that he was dressed impeccably so he wouldn't have to listen to another lecture from Byakuya on the importance of personal appearance, but something made Ichigo freeze in place, eyes glued to his reflection.

Maybe the night before hadn't been a dream after all... that or he was dreaming right now.

There were many minute physical changes that altogether they completely altered his appearance, not so much so that he looked like a different person but so that he was almost... prettier?

Somehow overnight he'd lost some of the little muscle tone he'd had and that his formerly straight as an arrow figure now bizarrely tapered in ever so slightly at the waist, creating a feminine curve that led to his hips. Also, rather eerily, his hair had grown several inches, again overnight, and his face was no longer distinctly boyish. He now had more defined cheekbones and his eyes looked larger with dark, longer lashes. His lips were plumper, fuller and red like he was wearing some of that awful rouge older women painted on their aging faces.

However, all of these adjustments to his appearance didn't really quite catch his attention as well as the pair of pointed, white incisors that protruded from underneath his top lip to rest on his (now much fuller) lower lip.

Ichigo's resulting horrified scream must have carried all throughout the large estate he lived on before he tore away from his reflection, barging through his bedroom door.

Several servants stared at him incredulously as he charged down the hallways of Kuchiki Manor, finally ending up in the dining room where Byakuya was reading a book at one end of the mile-long table and Rukia sat across from him, eating her breakfast. They both looked up when he entered the room, panting and double over, hands on his knees.

"Mr. Kurosaki, I don't know how many times I've had to remind you to use an appropriate volume when speaking indoors," the dark-haired aristocrat said in his apathetic way, the ever-present pearly fangs nearly identical to Ichigo's newfound ones glinting in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. He then went back to reading his book, which was usual dining room behavior for him as he had no need to eat but insisted on sitting down three times a day because it was 'tradition.'

"Ichigo, you... you're," Rukia started to say but was interrupted by her own giggles.

"What?" the orangette said defensively, straightening up and silently daring his best friend of ten years to say anything negative, even if he had similar sentiments about his sudden change in appearance. The diminutive dark-haired girl regained her composure, indigo eyes widening considerably as she clasped her hands under her chin.

"You're completely adorable!" she said. "You look like one of those porcelain dolls I had as a child. Remember those, Brother?"

Byakuya hummed, Ichigo unsure if that was an affirmative answer but not really caring as he pointed to Rukia from where he stood ten feet away, cheeks flaming.

"I am not adorable and I most certainly do not look like a doll," he said heatedly. The girl didn't say anything in response, just shaking her head and returning to her breakfast of what appeared to be poached eggs. Ichigo was dumbfounded when he could only stare at one of his favorite breakfast fares with distaste; he didn't even feel hungry, but really very... thirsty.

"What the hell happened last night?"

"Please take care to watch your language, Mr. Kurosaki," was Byakuya's immediate response.

"Last night you slept right through," Rukia said matter-of-factly. "I think you mean the night before last, as today is the sixteenth."

"I slept for a whole day?" Ichigo collapsed into the nearest dining chair, slumping over to rest his elbows on the table and his head in his hands.

"Yes, but that's because Rangiku put some sort of herb in the tea we gave you. She said you'd want to sleep through your Inheritance because of the pain."

The orange-haired teenager tentatively reached to touch one of his razor sharp incisors, the weight of what he'd become coming down on him heavily. For all of his life he'd believed himself to be one hundred percent utterly human, but now... well, he was anything but.

"So I really am... one of your kind," he said quietly.

"That's correct," Byakuya unexpectedly cut in from the opposite end of the table, but not even bothering to look up from his book, the riveting thing it must be. "You, Ichigo Kurosaki, are a submissive male vampire."

And there it was, what he'd turned into, finally spoken aloud and making the entire situation so real he felt like he may pass out right there at the dining table.

"That you are," Rukia said, looking much more cheerful about the situation than he did. "I'm so glad you're one of us, and that you're older than me and went through your Inheritance first. Now I know what to expect, though Rangiku said mine wouldn't be as painful."

"Congratulations," Ichigo said, looking down at the burgundy fabric of the table cloth like it was the most interesting thing in the world, then his head snapped up, gaze darting between the two brunettes at the table. "Wait... what do you mean 'submissive'?"

Neither Byakuya nor Rukia said anything for a few moments, the latter actually looking a little uneasy, averting her eyes away from the orange-haired youth beside her. Ichigo felt his brows pull together in a scowl.

The fact that he was 'submissive. couldn't be the reason why he'd woken up with longer hair, shapelier hips, and eyelashes any woman would kill for now could it?

"I think Ms. Matsumoto could explain that in greater detail than either of us would be able to," Byakuya finally said.

"Good idea, Brother!" Rukia stood from her chair, revealing that she'd chosen to wear her lavender dress that was relatively simple except for a weird little white rabbit pin on the sash. "I will take Ichigo down to see her now, the sooner the better, I believe. May we be excused?"

"You may."

The girl then grabbed the orangette by his wrist, dragging him out of his seat and to the narrow staircase in the next hallway over leading down to the kitchens that only the servants would have any use for after Rukia turned sixteen.

Rangiku was there per usual, having great fun at the expense of a young servant boy with frost white hair and turquoise eyes by bothering him incessantly about what he was doing wrong in preparing some kind of broth and shoving her none too small endowments into his face. Ichigo would've been content to watch them for a little as such entertainment was hard to come by, but Rukia called out a greeting, alerting them to their presence.

The boy blushed bright red, plainly flustered at his proximity to the younger masters of the estate, and murmured some formality before scurrying away. In contrast, Rangiku smiled easily at them, her own ivory canines not looking the least bit menacing when paired with her soft features.

"Hello there, Rukia... and Ichigo, you're up!" the strawberry-blonde said as she approached the two teenagers. "I see your Inheritance made you into quite the heartbreaker. Not that you weren't cute before, of course."

It was only because Rangiku had been the closest thing he'd ever had to a maternal figure that Ichigo allowed the woman to touch his hair and inspect all his recent changes. Delight shone in her crystal blue eyes as she drank in his now androgynous features.

"I look like a girl," Ichigo said miserably, shoulders hunching. "It has to do with the 'submissive' thing Byakuya mentioned earlier, doesn't it?"

Rangiku withdrew her fingers from the piece of shoulder blade-length sunset-colored hair she'd been fawning over to tap a fingertip against her lips, shaking her head.

"It's a shame you never knew your heritage before now. There are so many things about vampires you have to learn. Sit down and I'll tell you what you need to know about 'submissives' ," she said, gesturing towards the small, circular table where the servants of Kuchiki Manor ate their meals. Ichigo smiled weakly at the female vampire and took a seat at the table, Rukia following suit.

Rangiku straightened the white apron over her standard black uniform dress (that she took extreme liberties with in regards to the neckline) before seating herself between them. Drumming her fingernails against the rough wooden surface of the table, she looked to the ceiling and chewed on her bottom lip.

"Where to start, where to start... oh I'll just start by answering your question, Ichigo," she said, letting her blue eyes swivel down to meet the orangette's coffee brown. "Byakuya told you about your status as a male submissive vampire and then wouldn't elaborate, is that correct?"

Ichigo and Rukia nodded, eager to hear what Rangiku had to say. The boy understood perfectly what 'male' and 'vampire' meant, it was just the other word that was throwing him for a loop.

"Typical," the strawberry-blonde said, huffing. "He has to be the most prudish man on the face of the earth, but as I was saying... there are the essentials of being a vampire, but you know those, don't you?"

"They drink blood for sustenance, mate for life, have speed and strength greater than a human's, have mental abilities like telepathy and telekinesis, and they live just like human children do until their sixteenth birthday when they go through their Inheritance to gain all these things," Rukia said.

Ichigo couldn't help but grin at how excited she obviously was to turn sixteen and go through her own Inheritance. He almost felt sage next to her, having done it already, though he'd had no idea he was anything other than a normal human until midnight on the fifteenth of July.

"Yes, but the 'mate for life' part is really what the term 'submissive' relates to. Do you see where I'm headed with this, Ichigo?"

The orange-haired youth thought for a moment, but shook his head, the strands of hair longer than he was used to hitting him in the face as he did. Truth be told however, he could guess where this conversation was going but didn't want to acknowledge it. His life had been drastically altered enough just from his Inheritance.

Rangiku arched a perfect eyebrow at him but continued on anyway.

"Humans are different from vampires not just in the more obvious ways, but because they're black or white when it comes to gender, either female or male, but vampires have an area of gray. We call that gray area the 'male submissive'."

The teenager almost blurted out with "Well that explains a lot!" but remained silent, staring unblinkingly at the strawberry-blonde vampire sitting next to him. He felt like the gears in his brain had suddenly stopped, mind blank like a fresh canvas.

The strawberry-blonde woman looked unusually somber as she studied Ichigo's face for any kind of reaction to her words, and she traded a quick look with Rukia.

"I figured he wouldn't take this well," the brunette teenager said, huffing.

"Give him a minute, Rukia," Rangiku said. "This may take a while for Ichigo to accept." The kitchen maid then contradicted herself by leaning forward and waving a hand in front of the orangette's dazed stare.

"Hello? Is anyone home in there?"

Ichigo blinked once, twice, three times before shaking his head to rid himself of the disconnected feeling he had been experiencing. Then he inhaled shakily, but deeply.

"Then you're telling me I'm a... girl?" His voice cracked on the last word, revealing just how uncomfortable he was at the moment.

"No, no," Rangiku said, sighing. "Weren't you listening? I said you're a male submissive which means that you're still every bit the boy you were before, Ichigo."

"But I don't much look like one, now do I?" he said, grabbing handfuls of his tangerine hair to make his point.

"You're still a male, you've just... gained a few things that don't typically belong to one." Rangiku's eyes darted away to stare into space, twiddling her thumbs in an effort to look nonchalant.

"What do you mean when you say 'things'?" Ichigo said, chocolate toffee orbs narrowing dangerously as the horrific pictures of what the woman could possibly have meant running through his mind.

"Well, it's known that a male submissive's Inheritance is the most painful as new organs form inside of their bodies," Rukia answered instead of Rangiku. "That's why your stomach was hurting so badly."

"And these new organs, they're...?" the orangette trailed off and both of the females nodded. "So I can...?" They nodded again and he felt the blood drain from his face as he slumped bonelessly in his chair. "That's so great, really. Someone up there must really hate my guts."

"Oh Ichigo, stop being so dramatic!" Rukia said. "It's not so bad, the fact that you can bear children, is it? Women, human and vampire, do it every day!"

"I think... I need some fresh air," Ichigo said, not even bothering to respond to his surrogate sister's protest about his attitude towards finding out that he could... that he could...

Yeah, he was definitely not ready to say it mentally to himself, let alone out loud.

It wasn't a bad thing to him, the teenager knew that much. But it was all so... so different to think right then about his future where instead of seeing a happily pregnant, beautiful wife by his side he envisioned himself like he looked now, all gussied up, full with the child of the faceless lover behind him.

"I'll take you to the stables to see Zangetsu," Rukia said, walking around the table and linking her arm with Ichigo's to practically force him to his feet. Despite being under five feet tall, she could still toss him around like a rag doll. "Would you like to join us, Ran?"

"I'm afraid I can't, there's so much to do in preparation for the suitors," Rangiku said almost wistfully. "You two have fun... oh, and make sure to get a good look at the new stable hand." The strawberry-blonde winked once before rising to her feet in order to attend to whatever demanded her attention.

Rukia led the barely responsive Ichigo out of the stone-walled manor and onto the sprawling grounds of the estate, a servant rushing up to them with a ladies parasol as soon as they stepped outside. The girl held it over both of their heads somehow despite their height difference.

The orange-haired youth was silent as they made their way along the path to where the stables holding the latest descendants of the Kuchiki's prized thoroughbreds were stationed far away from the estate gardens, lest the horses eat or ruin the perfectly trimmed rosebushes. Ichigo ran his tongue along the still unfamiliar fangs whose points rested against his bottom lip but never broke the skin even though they were undoubtedly fatally sharp.

However, he was pleasantly distracted from his thoughts of fangs and submissives and vampires in general as he heard amicable neighing he recognized at once, looking up from the ground to let one of his incredibly rare smiles cross his face.

Ichigo broke away from Rukia, knowing his oldest friend would understand, and ran towards the pen in front of the stables themselves. He jumped the fence far more easily than he had been able to before and crossed the yards between him and the stunningly beautiful jet-black stallion pawing at the ground. But when he was about ten feet away, he came to a halting stop.

What if Zangetsu didn't recognize him anymore?

Heart sinking just at the thought of his animal companion staying his distance because of the recent physical changes he's gone through, Ichigo didn't even register that the ebony-coated horse had walked straight up to him until Zangetsu nudged his hair with a cold nose. Laughing under his breath in both relief and amusement, the orangette stroked the animal's nose with one hand.

"Hey boy, you'll never guess what happened to me this morning. If you can believe it, I found out I'm actually a vampire and no one even knew before I started growing fangs the other night," he said softly and Zangestu snorted in response. "I know. And not only did I find out that I'm a vampire, but I'm a submissive one too and now my hair's all long and I look like a girl, a really ugly girl."

Zangetsu neighed indignantly, shaking his head back and forth.

"Thanks, Zan, you always know what to say," Ichigo said, aware that any one other than Rukia would think him completely insane for talking to a horse like he did.

"Mistress Kuchiki, please allow me to assist you!" a desperate male voice sounded from across the pen. Both the youth and his horsed turned their heads to see what was essentially the aftermath of Rukia trying for the thousandth time to climb over the fence into the pen without help. Every time she ended up teetering at the top, legs too short for her to jump from the height without injuring herself. Ichigo snickered under his breath at the sight as the elderly man who oversaw the stables pleaded with the girl as she hiked up her dress, showing off her lacy bloomers as she insisted she could get down by herself.

"Besides, you couldn't catch me. I'm not exactly as light as a feather," Rukia said, furthering her case.

"All right, I'll get someone else. Just... please do not jump, " the man said, whipping around, eyes immediately going toward the entrance of the stables. "Abarai, get over here and help Mistress Kuchiki down!"

It really was astonishing the way his tone changed when he spoke to one of his workers, Ichigo noted. He thought people who didn't treat everyone as they deserved were spineless creatures and so his nose wrinkled in distaste, looking away from the man and where Rukia still perched on the fence to see if the newcomer could potentially knock any sense into the petite, stubborn girl.

He didn't expect what emerged from the shadows of the stables at all.

The man was maybe a few years older than him, no younger than eighteen but definitely not over twenty-five. He had hair that was such a deep red it had Ichigo licking his lips subconsciously, the locks of scarlet silk obviously past his shoulders though it was pulled into a disheveled ponytail and away from the man's face. From what the teenager could see from his position twenty feet away, the other male was in possession of the perfect masculine features - the strong chin, straight nose.

But this all paled in comparison to the expanse of bronzed flesh marked with black tattoos in a jagged pattern stretched over perfectly just big enough muscles, all of this glory exposed for the world to see as the redheaded man wasn't wearing a shirt. Ichigo watched with wide eyes as the man walked up to where Rukia was staring down at him with a dazed expression similar to the orange-haired male's.

"Just jump, I'll catch you," the man said to her in a deep, rough voice that weakened Ichigo's knees. The teenager wondered enviously why he hadn't been the one to get stuck on top of the fence as Rukia only nodded before letting herself fall from her perch and into the waiting arms of the stable hand. Though he was slightly appeased when the redhead hurriedly set her on her feet, nodding his head once at her thanks before stalking across the pen to return to the stables.

Their eyes met as the man walked past him, this time only ten feet away, and Ichigo could make out the other's were a rich russet color. However their direct eye contact lasted for only a moment before the redhead turned his head and headed back into the wooden structure he'd originated from.

"I suppose that's the new stable hand Rangiku told us about."

Ichigo started, nearly jumping foot in the air, at the sound of Rukia's voice so close to him when he hadn't been aware of her approaching at all. After he recovered, he glared down at the brunette heatedly but she only smiled softly.

"I saw the look you two were giving each other when he walked back over here," she said in a lilting manner. "It's a shame he doesn't have any wealth or a title, otherwise I would tell you to go for it."

"Since when have you cared about that?" Ichigo said, surprised at his friend's sudden concern about such things. They'd bonded so many times over the fact that neither of them were concerned with money or status though that was expected of them when they were raised as if they were Byakuya's own, essentially as nobleman's children.

"You know I don't," Rukia said somberly, twirling her parasol in her hands. "But my brother does."

"Good for him," the fledgling vampire said, shrugging his shoulders. He was at a loss as to where his friend was going with this.

"Oh, that's right!" Rukia gasped and clasped a hand to her cheek. "He was supposed to tell you this morning at breakfast."

"Tell me what?" Ichigo asked warily, burying his head into his beloved Zangetsu's neck as trepidation welled up within him.

"Well, you know how when female vampires reach their Inheritance an announcement is sent out and then all eligible suitors are invited so that they may try and win her father over so a marriage and mating could possibly be arranged?" The diminutive girl kept her gaze strictly on the grass they stood on as she spoke.

"Yes..."

Ichigo really did not like where this was going.

"It is tradition for the same to be done for the Inheritance of a... submissive male."

"Well, this day just keeps getting better and better," he said, before then promptly fainting dead away.


	2. Blooming Flowers

It was once again morning when Ichigo opened his eyes to find himself back in his bedroom and it was a few moments before the sleepy haze lifted away enough for him to remember he had blacked out the day before and undoubtedly been dead to the world for another day.

Sighing heavily at the realization, the first thing he noticed was that someone had slipped off the clothes he'd been wearing the day before and redressed him in one of his linen nightshirts.

But that wasn't the only thing that had changed...

The agonizing experience on his birthday where he transformed from human to vampire had altered not only his body but his life as well in a terribly permanent way and it really hadn't hit him fully until Rukia had informed him that he was to be handled the same as a female recently come into her Inheritance- meaning he was going to be subject the traditional gathering of suitors where a marriage was expected to be arranged.

No, his life would never again be the same.

Hence the passing out in the middle of a horse pen.

Ichigo rose to a sitting position, still a bit light-headed, and licked his lips as he felt how dry his mouth was with thirst. He was on the verge of pushing himself off of the bed to head to the bathroom to rinse his mouth with some water when the door leading to the hallway creaked open slowly, a familiar head of strawberry blonde hair peeking around the edge.

"Oh, you're awake!" Rangiku grinned, showing off her pearly white fangs before letting herself into the room and closing the door behind her. She was holding a porcelain tea cup in one hand, its contents a secret as it was tilted towards her. "I was worried you'd fallen into a coma from shock."

The orangette remained silent, partly because of the arid feeling in his mouth and partly because he didn't have anything to say to that, didn't want to say anything. Rangiku, not surprisingly, wasn't fazed by his antisocial demeanor, placing her free hand on her hip as her mouth then curved into a frown. She approached the bed and when she looked down at him with one raised eyebrow Ichigo was suddenly eight years old, caught red-handed pilfering sweets from the kitchens all over again. He hunched his shoulders and averted his eyes away to stare at his duvet.

"What did you think you were doing - overexerting yourself like that when you'd just gone through your Inheritance and not even bothering to satisfy your thirst?" the female vampire said, her chastising tone making the tips of the youth's ears turn red from contrition.

"Sorry," he said, peering up at Rangiku through the mussed tangles of nectarine-colored hair that had fallen into his face. "I... forgot."

"Hmph, well you better make sure you don't 'forget' anymore because I won't drop everything to nurse you back to health one more time." Rangiku sighed heavily then as if she were exasperated by his reckless behavior. "Now, drink this before you faint again."

The porcelain teacup was then proffered to him as it was held in front of his face, allowing him to see that it was filled to the brim with a bright red, thick substance that before he turned sixteen would have disgusted him. But now its scent, ambrosial and piquant, beckoned to him and the orangette didn't hesitate before taking the teacup and bringing it to his dry lips.

It tasted just like he remembered and he drank from the cup like a drunkard did cheap liquor, the spiced sweetness going down his throat like melted chocolate. Almost immediately, he felt better, and not only was his fatigue lifted but his spirits as well, no longer so dampened by recent events. This time, he did whimper a little when he'd swallowed the last drop.

"Have you had any headaches? Or strange dreams while you were asleep?" the strawberry blonde asked him and he shook his head and let the hand that was holding the teacup to his lips to fall into his lap. "Hmm, your abilities must still be latent then..."

Ichigo knew that Rangiku was referring to the unique mental abilities all vampires gain once they reached their Inheritance. No one vampire had the exact same and it was rumoured that they were dependent on the personality of the owner. For example, Rangiku's ability was the power to be able to tell when those speaking to her were lying (which had made getting out of those times when he'd been caught red-handed with his hand in the cookie jar even harder) and his guardian, Byakuya, had the telepathic ability to receive strains of thoughts that the owner wished to send to him.

The orangette merely nodded to that and the female vampire continued on, pointing to the empty porcelain teacup cradled in his hands.

"That's a day's worth of blood, so you cannot drink anymore until tomorrow evening," Rangiku said, as if reading his mind. "Drinking too much is just as bad as drinking too little; unless you were to conceive that is, then you would need to drink ten times this amount."

Ichigo choked on the air he was breathing when the strawberry-blonde mentioned the word 'conceive', his cheeks flushing with embarrassment for no good reason other than the fact he was still unused to the idea of being able to... do that. It was pretty hard to wrap his mind around, thinking for his entire life he was a normal human male, that when the time came he would have to suppress his attraction to the same sex and marry a respectable, hopefully kind woman his guardian approved of.

"You're going to have to get used to it at some point, you know." The female vampire shook her head in disbelief. "You're as bad as Byakuya when he says he 'does not speak of such things because it is improper'," she said, mocking her employer's painfully stoic manner.

It was then the sound of a door slamming down the hall reached their ears, nearly making Ichigo drop the empty teacup in surprise.

"Speak of the Devil," Rangiku said. "He and Rukia have been bickering for the past half hour."

"About what?" the teenager asked, sliding over to the edge of the bed so that his feet touched the floor. He wasn't concerned as his surrogate sister often lost her patience with their guardian and was infamous for her door-slamming episodes.

"The master is a bit miffed about what happened down at the stables yesterday morning." Rangiku grinned coyly then, her blue eyes sparkling knowingly. "I was in the room when he heard from that chatterbox chamber maid that his precious Rukia was in the arms of a half-naked man and just when he was going to see for himself that gorgeous stable hand came bursting through the doors with you in his arms." She clasped her hands to her chest then, expression wistful and glazed over.

Ichigo, however, was not so enchanted by the information.

"What!" he said, actually dropping the tea cup that time to fall to the floor and shatter into several pieces. "Please tell me you made that up."

He could not ever face anyone again if that had really happened. The redheaded stable hand especially; he'd throw himself out of his bedroom window before he would encounter the man again. It wasn't enough that he'd passed out in a horse pen but then the other had been obligated tocarry him back to the manor and Byakuya had been there to witness the spectacle.

"Don't be so embarrassed, Ichigo," Rangiku said. "It was like something out of one of those romantic novellas. And you should have seen Byakuya's face; I thought his head was going to explode."

"That isn't helping," Ichigo said, burying his face in his hands. He could only picture the vein in his guardian's temple throbbing visibly and his lips pressed into a thin line like they did whenever something upset him so greatly he lost that little bit of his composure. "I'm never leaving this room again."

"Well, actually that is why I'm here now that you mention it..."

The orangette's head snapped up from where it had been resting to regard Rangiku with anxious coffee brown eyes.

"Byakuya asked me to come and fetch you so that you could greet your visitor in the dining hall."

"Visitor?" Ichigo asked, but wasn't answered immediately as the strawberry blonde turned and crossed over to where his clothes had been laid out for him like they always were, not hesitating to pick up one of his usual waistcoats from where it lay and chucking it back into the trunk that held his entire wardrobe.

"Yes, it seems that the vampire elders don't trust that Byakuya can handle the gathering of suitors by himself, so they've one of their own to 'assist'," Rangiku said as she withdrew an ivory silk waistcoat with gold, floral embroidery and a matching cravat from the orangette's trunk, placing it over the breeches and shirt that were laid upon his dresser.

"You mean The Elders?" Ichigo said, a bit flabbergasted as he stood from his place on the bed.

"Unfortunately," the woman said under her breath. "But yes, one is sitting in the dining room currently and waiting on you, so put these on and hurry on downstairs." She walked back over to the door leading to the hallway, treading carefully around the broken shards of the teacup on the floor, and let herself out with a swish of her full skirt and a soft whisper of "Good luck."

The gray-haired, older vampire sitting almost as rigidly as Byakuya (oh, nobles) at the long, dining table Ichigo expected when he'd finally arrived after dressing in the boots, white gloves, breeches, shirt, cravat, and waistcoat chosen for him, thankfully remembering to run his until then rarely used hairbrush through the tangles in his long locks of nectarine-colored hair (for if he hadn't, he was sure his guardian would have had the same heart palpitations as when Rukia wondered about the manor with her own curtain of dark hair loose.)

What he had not been expecting, however, was the piles upon piles of boxes in assorted sizes and colors and the numerous burlap sacks filled with sealed envelopes that had been placed in the dining room alongside all four walls. Before anyone addressed him, he noticed that there was a red and pink, heart-shaped theme among them and spotted his name written on the fronts of the envelopes and on the tags attached to the boxes.

"Ah, Ichigo, so nice of you to join us," Byakuya's voice cut across his thoughts as both of the men sitting at the table stood at his entrance in regards to his new female-like status. The orange-haired youth arched a brow at the use of his first name by the man who'd referred to him by his last ever since they'd met, but he said nothing. Instead he offered a cautious smile to the two other males in the room, chocolate brown eyes sweeping over the newcomer.

He was visibly older, which only spoke as to how ancient he must be considering vampires after their Inheritance aged one human year for every ten that passed, and he had gray hair not only on his head but also fashioned into a handlebar mustache above smiling lips. Also, he reeked of nobility, dressed impeccably with a rapier that surely must have been centuries old strapped to his waist and staring impassively at Ichigo with hawk-like yellow eyes.

"Elder Chojiro Sasakibe, this is my charge, Ichigo Kurosaki," Byakuya said, introducing the two of them. The vampire now known as Sasakibe extended a similarly white-gloved hand to gently grasp Ichigo's in a way a man would a woman's, somewhat startling the orangette until he surmised that with his new identity as a male submissive that he would no longer be treated as if he were just as equally male as the dominant male vampires. Fortunately, Sasakibe did not make as if to kiss his hand, only inclining his head and smiling politely.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ichigo. You've caused quite the stir among our kind the past few days," he said.

"It's nice to meet you as well," Ichigo said, not forgetting the etiquette he'd been raised with ever since he'd been adopted by the older Kuchiki and brought out to the country to live on the estate. However, he couldn't quite force himself to say it as jovially as was perhaps expected of him. Not when he knew why the vampire elder was there.

Sasakibe let go of his hand and all three of the males sat down in their respective seats, Byakuya at his usual position at the head of the table and Ichigo to his right with the older vampire across from him.

"Elder Sasakibe has graciously traveled from Seireitei in order to oversee the procedures of the gathering of the suitors," the brunette said then in his monotonous way, though the submissive vampire could've sworn he heard a hint of displeasure in the man's voice- which wouldn't have been very surprising as Byakuya was sinfully proud and no doubt took offense that the Elders thought him so incompetent as to not be able to handle his charge's affairs properly.

"Oh it was no trouble." Sasakibe waved a gloved hand dismissively, though he still managed to come off as incredibly dignified. "I was very eager to meet the first male submissive to come into his Inheritance in over a century," he said in that noble kind of manner that made it seem impossible that the word 'eager' even existed in his vocabulary. "It was quite the surprise, I'm sure you know."

"We here at the manor were taken aback as well," Byakuya said. "I was under the impression that my ward was human for the past decade."

"Ah yes, because you adopted him from an orphanage in one of the northern cities, correct?" the elder vampire questioned, raising a hand to his face to stroke his mustache with his forefinger and thumb when the other gave a short nod. His hawk-like gaze was firmly set on the orangette across the table, who averted his eyes to his lap in what appeared to be out of modesty, but really resulted from discomfort. "And no one has any knowledge of who his parents might have been?"

"None."

"Interesting..." Sasakibe's eyes narrowed but he diverted from the subject despite his curiosity. "But moving along to more pressing matters- regardless of young Ichigo's lineage it is crucial that he find the most suitable mate in order to best propagate our race."

Ichigo's heart sank into his stomach and he could feel a migraine forming at the Elder's words. He'd known they were inevitable, that the whole situation was, but it's no secret that everyone subconsciously still clings to that last bit of hope even when their worst fear is staring them dead in the eye. Chancing a glance over at his guardian, he was stunned to see the mildest frown in the world marring the vampire's handsome face.

"I am aware of the traditions," Byakuya said. "However, I thought it may be best for any talk of marriage to be postponed for a year or so as Ichigo as only just learned of his... status and I believe is far too young and reckless at this point to consider having children of his own."

Ichigo's toffee orbs widened to the size of saucers and the points of his sharp incisors prick the flesh of his bottom lip as he bit into it reflexively in his surprise. He'd never imagined in a thousand years that his guardian would ever consider breaking tradition and the customs of both the vampire race and its nobility in order to prolong the orangette's childhood for just a bit longer. But surely an elder would be greatly affronted by the proposition?

"I understand your concern," Sasakibe said a little more sternly than usual. "Nevertheless, we cannot afford our young ones more time to indulge in youthful dalliances. Your other charge, Ms. Rukia, will also have to find a husband immediately com here inheritance as well. Our dominant male population outnumber the submissive females, and Ichigo here, thirty to one and every year we find that our population is dwindling more and more. If this continues, soon we will be a minority amongst humans and I am sure I do not have to inform you of what will come to pass should that happen." He spoke with all the persuasive power of a politician and with a gently chiding tone that only the elderly could possess when self-righteous about their amount of life experience.

"You do not," Byakuya said, but didn't offer any commentary on what else the elder vampire had spoken of. So Ichigo decided to, because there was one little piece of information that had caught his attention.

"Excuse me, but did you say thirty to one?" he said, nearly choking on air as his mind tried to wrap itself around the concept that for every female vampire (and him) there were thirty males vying for their hand in marriage.

"Not to worry, Ichigo," Sasakibe said, his thin lips stretching into a well-bred smile that showcased his two ivory fangs. "Your guardian and I have already begun the process of sorting through your potential suitors in order to only invite those deemed suitable to the manor tonight."

It was only because Byakuya then spoke that Ichigo was able to keep from bursting out yet again. He'd thought he would have had at least a few days to say goodbye to the freedom of human childhood before resigning himself to the fate he shared with all of the females in the world, the fate that stripped him of all individuality and control.

"Rukia is well informed on the subject, Ichigo; she will help to familiarize you with the customary procedures," his guardian said, not bothering to even look at him while he spoke. "She is waiting for you in the gardens."

Taking that as his dismissal, the orangette absentmindedly rose to his feet (as did the other two vampires in the room) and in a mild shock induced daze bid good day to the Elder before retreating from the dining room, dragging his feet across the marble floors of the manor as he made his way to where a pair of double french doors led outside. He pushed them open and stepped directly into the manor's rose garden, furnished with every type of the fragrant flower and stone benches- upon which sat a despondent-looking dark-haired girl in a modest peach-colored dress.

Rukia looked up from where she was staring at the ground, chin in hand, when Ichigo was about ten feet away. Her violet eyes were noticeably somber and her lips were pressed into a thin line, not to mention her hair was pulled up into a severe bun which the orange-haired vampire knew for a fact his surrogate sister never did, always leaving her hair loose no matter how 'improper' it was, unless she was upset by something or another.

"Byakuya sent me out here to talk to you about... tonight," Ichigo said, lowering himself to sit on the bench beside her, drawing his legs up in front of him to rest his chin on his knees.

Rukia didn't say anything, only huffing as she looked up at the impossibly massive manor they'd grown up in. Her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms as she apparently thought of whatever it was that was distressing her.

"Rangiku told me that you two were fighting because he nearly fainted when he heard about the stable hand helping you down from the fence yesterday." He purposefully didn't mention the part that their guardian had also witnessed him being rushed inside after he'd blacked out in the horse pen by the exact same redheaded stable hand.

Rukia laughed abruptly, sounding almost bitter as she shook her head and turned to face Ichigo, a sad smile on her lips.

"No, I'm afraid that argument took place last night," she said, sighing. "This morning we were arguing about... well, you."

"Me?"

"Yes." The dark-haired girl averted her eyes then, looking to the side and biting her lip with still human teeth. "I was angry with him for not holding off on the gathering of your suitors."

"Why?" Ichigo asked, curiously peering down at the female vampire-to-be. She was the one yesterday who'd been reassuring him that having his... unique abilities as a submissive male weren't bad at all, so why was she upset by the fact that he would soon have to put them to use?

Without warning, Rukia flung herself onto him, wrapping her small arms around his torso in a crushing embrace while burying her face into his shoulder. Stunned, it wasn't until he felt her diminutive frame start to shudder and the fabric covering his shoulder became slightly damp that Ichigo hugged her in return.

"Don't you see, Ichigo?" she said miserably, her voice muffled. "Once they pair you off with some old cur he'll hide you away in his own manor and force you to raise his children just like you were a woman and then we'll never see each other again!"

To say that the orangette hadn't thought of this as a possibility was a lie, because it was all he could think of. He knew what was expected of women in society, especially in nobility and the vampire race, and that many men took this to an extreme. It was rare indeed to know of a marriage where both partners were considered even close to being equal, and so he knew what kind of life would very possibly befall him once his guardian and now Elder Sasakibe found a 'suitable' mate for him.

Ichigo felt much like crying himself but instead swallowed thickly and patted his surrogate sister's back in a halfhearted attempt to soothe her as she continued to sob. There was no doubt that if he were to allow himself to break down similarly to Rukia he wouldn't be able to face the coming night.

His fate was sealed, inevitable. It was of no use to cry over it now.

"You don't think I would really let someone lock me away in some ivory tower, now do you?" he finally said when the brunette's weeping had died down for the most part.

Rukia straightened up, wiping her eyes and cheeks with her white-gloved hands and sniffing though a ghost of a smile appeared on her lips.

"No, I suppose not," she said. "It's just... not fair, what they do to us, like we're inferior to them just because we can give birth..." she trailed off, her words making the air around the both of them heavy, almost suffocating- but such was their life in these times. Ichigo was silent for a good few moments before pushing himself off the bench and brushing imaginary dirt from his breeches.

"Walk with me while you tell me all about the hours of torture I have to endure tonight?" he asked with a wry smile, holding an arm out to Rukia out of habit.

"It would be my pleasure," she said, pressing a hand to her chest and batting her eyelashes before linking their arms together. "The first thing you have to know is that the dominant males Brother and that Elder invite will be here for a few days."

Ichigo groaned, though he'd suspected as much. The dark-haired girl laughed as they turned a corner around one of the rosebushes.

"Well you'll be happy to know that they won't be staying in the manor; that would be-"

"Let me guess," the orange-haired youth interrupted. "Improper?"

"Indeed," Rukia said, holding up a finger. "It wouldn't do to have all of those unattached male guests spending the night in the same building as an unattached submissive male. It has to do with unmated dominant males being driven wild with passion from your scent or something along those lines."

"My... scent?" Ichigo nearly stopped dead in his tracks, lifting his shirt to sniff at it before shrugging. "But I don't smell any differently."

"To them you do, trust me." His oldest friend waggled her eyebrows in a Rangiku-like manner. "All of the dominants will be drooling over you tonight. You'll be lucky if you manage to get through the evening without being mauled," she said in part amusement, part scorn.

"That's reassuring," the orangette said resentfully.

"Don't worry, Brother and Elder Sasakibe will be there to make sure nothing 'illicit' goes on. Besides, it's embedded in a dominant male's nature never to harm a female, or a submissive male rather. Or not physically anyway. Especially when the ratio is so skewed and they all yearn to procreate and further their race and lineage."

Ichigo felt the slightest bit of relief upon hearing that; at least he would never have to worry about his future mate trying to beat him into submission as he'd heard some humans did.

"But anyway, about tonight," Rukia said interrupting his morbid thoughts. "The first evening is where the dominants will introduce themselves to you. The Elder will most likely chaperon as you meet with all of them for a few minutes each, and then there dinner will be served but it's tradition that you not eat with them because that's the time when the father, or guardian in your case, will question them."

The girl was about to continue on when Ichigo held up a hand in a gesture for her to be silent. At her puzzled expression, he raised a finger in the air and looked at her meaningfully, indicating that she should listen carefully because he thought he'd just heard...

The distinctive sound of a whip cracking through the air rendered them both stunned still for only a fraction of a second before they broke apart and rushed around the tall hedges of the gardens, the orangette sending a quick prayer to whatever deity may have been listening that it wasn't what he thought it was.

He and Rukia both came to a screeching halt when the estate's stables and horse pen came into view, what Ichigo saw then making his stomach lurch and horror and rage to well up within him. They both stood there for one terrible moment with identically horrified expressions on their pretty faces before the slightly less traumatized female spoke.

"I'm going to get my brother," she said before turning and racing back to the manor, picking up the bustled, full skirt of her dress as she did.

Not a second later, Ichigo broke out into a full out run, sprinting down the path as fast as he could, for what he'd seen in front of the stables in the pen was not his beloved horse trotting along happily or grazing on grass while someone brushed his beautiful coat.

No, instead the jet black stallion was rearing back, standing on his hind legs as he whinnied in distress. A few stable hands and trainers were circling him, one pulling on a rope whose end was fastened around Zangetsu's neck and, as if that wasn't awful enough, another was holding a whip that he snapped in the air to crack against the animal's flesh in a way that even sounded tortuously painful and made the vampire youth's chest tighten with a mixture of awful emotions.

"Stop!" Ichigo cried out, not halting soon enough to keeping momentum from making him collide into the wooden fence, knocking the air out of him. Zangetsu neighed in response to his voice, bucking wildly enough to almost make the man holding the rope to lose his grip. The orange-haired male made to scale the fence, slipping his booted feet between the planks of wood and gripping onto the peak to hoist himself over, only to be met with the unwelcome mug of the elderly man who ran the stables and seemed determined to keep him out of the pen.

"Let me through and stop this immediately," Ichigo said viciously, ready to physically force his way past the man who had earned a permanent place on his black list. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do when it came to his horse, one of the few steady companions he'd ever had since Byakuya had allowed him to try and tame the wild stallion and he'd succeeded with lots of patience and sugar cubes.

"Master Kurosaki, it's too dangerous for you to get any closer. Stay back while we get the animal under control," the elderly man said as if chastising a young child and making the orangette see red.

"Do not tell me what to do," he said through clenched teeth. "Now get out of my way so I can stop you idiots from hurting my horse anymore."

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

Just as Ichigo was about to make for the man's throat and throttle him until he begged for the mercy that Zangetsu wasn't currently being shown, a blur of red and white caught his eye as it shot past him and effectively diverted his attention away from his prospective murder victim.

Straightening from his position leaning over the tip of the fence, holding on using his foothold on one of the planks of wood and the tenuous grasp he had on the tip of the top, he scanned the pen to see what had just flown by him so quickly. What he saw had his jaw dropping in slight awe and heart bursting with gratitude and something he didn't have a name for as it was completely new to him.

The orangette witnessed as the redheaded, tattooed stable hand from the day before (who he noticed was now covering his upper body with a loose linen shirt) ripped the whip out of the hands of the one who was wielding it in one swift move, the other man frozen still in surprise. Zangetsu dropped to all fours then and snorted triumphantly, pawing at the ground with one hoof despite the rope still around his neck, which his savior then grabbed a hold of, the cowardly man clutching it letting go immediately.

Ichigo, like everyone else, could only watch with wide eyes as the redhead then walked right up to the stallion who only ever behaved for his orange-haired owner and patted the place between the animal's wide-set eyes, smirking arrogantly obviously at the fact that he'd been able to diffuse the situation all by himself and so easily. That expression had Ichigo's heart skipping a beat as the elderly stable manager moved away from the fence, pointing an accusatory finger at the redhead stable hand.

"Abarai, what do you think you're doing?" he said, face turning a lovely shade of mottled purple as he stalked towards the redhead who'd just put an end to Zangetsu's torment. The other man didn't answer, didn't even look at the approaching stable manager. "I'm talking to you, you impudent little-"

"Excuse me," Ichigo said, interjecting in a tone far calmer and much haughtier now that his horse was being pet by a rather handsome stranger and no longer in pain. The vampire then hefted himself over the fence to drop gracefully to his feet, hands immediately going to his hips. "But you will not speak to the man who saved my horse from you and your lackeys' cruel treatment. In fact, you're dismissed." The orangette smirked in glee as the stable manager's face deepened to a dark burgundy, looking as if his head might explode right then and there.

"You can't do that! Master Kuchiki hired me; he wouldn't let you dismiss me-"

"Actually, he would," a frosty voice cut the man off and Ichigo's eyes snapped to where the voice was coming from the entrance to the stables where Byakuya was standing with Rukia, who'd apparently been successful in retrieving her brother. "I specifically remember telling you that riding crops and whips were not to be used on my thoroughbreds but it would seem that your minuscule brain could not absorb the information. You are hereby dismissed from your position here and banned from the Kuchiki estate grounds."

The stable manager's fists clenched by his sides and his eyes looked as if they would bulge out of their sockets, but after a few moments of silence he finally slunk away to the side of the stable building, undoubtedly to retrieve his things from inside but too intimidated to pass by Byakuya himself. Ichigo felt a smug satisfaction as he watched the disgraced man's back grow smaller and smaller, only when it had entirely disappeared facing his guardian. However, Byakuya was already stately making his way back to the manor, Rukia following one step behind and to the right apparently speaking to the noble about something as the orangette watched her mouth move at a rapid rate.

Frowning heavily, it was another second before Ichigo remembered why he was there in the first place and spun on his heel to dart towards Zangetsu, who was still being pet by the redheaded stable hand, noticing absentmindedly that all of the other stable hands had cleared off.

He came to a stop about five feet away, feeling somewhat unsure of himself and definitely embarrassed as he remembered what Rangiku had told him about how this man in front of him had carried him back to the manor when he'd fainted in the horse pen yesterday morning.

"So I guess I have to thank you twice now," Ichigo finally said, chewing on his lip as he clasped his hands behind his back and dug the toe of one of his booted feet into the ground. The stable hand stopped stroking Zangetsu's velveteen coat and turned his head so that eyes the color of russet silk focused on the submissive male's now flushed face.

Ichigo had to suppress the urge to gasp as he caught sight of one physical trait that had been lost among the many other... eye-catching ones the stable hand possessed. From between two smirking lips peeked a set of incredibly sharp-looking fangs, meaning this redhead was obviously a vampire just like he was.

"Yeah, I guess you do."

The orangette's eyebrows rose to his hairline in surprise at how the stable hand, one of the estate's employees that usually fawned over him, had spoken to him so casually. But though it was unexpected, it wasn't particularly unpleasant...

"Well, I... thank you for stopping them," Ichigo said, then letting his gaze drop from those mahogany eyes sparkling with bemusement to look at his feet, clearing his throat. "And for... assisting me back to the manor yesterday."

"Don't mention it," the redhead said, shrugging his shoulders while Zangetsu snorted and shook his head. "Your name's Ichigo, right?"

Being addressed by his first name by anyone other than Rukia and Rangiku was again unexpected, but the teenager found he rather liked it, especially when his name sounded so very nice when spoken by that deeply masculine but still youthful voice the other owned. Nevertheless, he didn't trust his own at that moment and simply nodded, raising his eyes back so that they made eye contact and offering a small smile.

"Mine's Renji," the redhead said, grinning broadly before reaching out a hand. Ichigo then cautiously placed his gloved one in the other's calloused, tanned, broad one and was pleased when even though it was held like a man would hold a woman's, the stable hand's grip was firm and not holding his hand as if it were made of spun glass. "I've been wanting to meet you in person since last week when I saw you riding this beast here; never seen any noble up on a stallion before." The male vampire now known as Renji gestured to Zangetsu, who tossed his head up in the air and trotted away, offended at the use of the word 'beast.'

The orange-haired male felt his face become even warmer at both the words and the realization that Renji was still holding his hand. Silently cursing his propensity to blush at the drop of a hat, he gently pulled his hand back to him and immediately mourned the loss of contact.

"Well I trained Zan myself, so I'm pretty comfortable riding him," he said in a way he hoped came off as casual despite his voice wavering when he got to the word 'riding.'

Damn Rangiku and her late night 'informative lectures.'

"Impressive," Renji said, whistling lowly. "Maybe there's a future for you in the field, then." He smiled wolfishly, a smile that Ichigo had never seen the likes of in his years of living amongst nobles that were far too reserved to ever come across so... rakish. It sent shivers down his spine that he had to make a show of huffing and folding his arms over his chest in order to cover up.

"No, there isn't," he said.

Ichigo knew there wouldn't be time to raise horses, train them, breed them, when he would be busy every single second of every day of his life looking after the children he'd been obligated to have with some dominant male he barely knew, most likely didn't love and possibly hated. As he thought this, he was even aware of his expression falling into one of despondency, eyes misting over with the grief he felt for the life he'd once partially looked forward to as he looked at the gorgeous redhead across from him.

If only he had money or a title...

It hit the orangette then that there he was, developing something of an attraction to the stable hand when he knew that within a matter of hours he would be standing in a room full of dominant vampires with qualities Byakuya and Elder Sasakibe found desirable and only one of them could be his life-long mate. He was only making it harder on himself, he realized.

Renji was perhaps going to say something in response, but Ichigo abruptly spoke before the other would have the chance to.

"I have to go," was all he said before turning around and walking as quickly as he could back to the manor while still looking dignified, ignoring the singular cry for him to wait.

As Ichigo stepped inside through the french doors after nearly jogging up the path to the building, he was immediately greeted by a woman with strawberry blonde hair who was smiling at him sadly and whose crystal blue eyes shined with pity.

"I've informed everyone that you need your rest, so you can go lay down in your bedroom if you like," Rangiku said, reaching out to run soothing fingers in the teenager's newly lengthened sunset and honey-hued strands of hair. "No one will call on you until a quarter to five."

"Thank you," Ichigo said softly in genuine gratitude. "I think I'll do that."

The female vampire nodded and let him pass by her to drag himself up the stairs, using the banister as if without it he would fall right over, his shoulders hunched in defeat and fatigue. He felt Rangiku's uncharacteristically sorrowful eyes on him until he reached the top of the stairs and turned the corner to head into his bedroom.

A few moments later he collapsed onto his downy bed face down, rolling onto his side after a second to stare out of one of the massive windows to where they looked out over the entire grounds of the estate, the stables and horse pen clearly visible even from this distance. A long shuddering sigh escaped from between his lips and he hesitantly reached to place one elegant, still-gloved hand over his stomach.

Impulsively, he withdrew his hand to rip his glove off and push his waistcoat and shirt up so that his lower abdomen was exposed and the bare skin of both it and his palm could touch as he replaced his hand there, feeling how the lines of muscle definition had faded for the most part, leaving nothing but a perfectly flat stomach. It was unreal to think of the new organs that had formed inside of him due to his Inheritance, and what could possibly very soon reside in there as well.

It wasn't that he'd never wanted children, because Ichigo had always found pleasure in the thought of having a son or daughter to call his own. But of course, he'd never even dreamed of being able to carry his child himself.

And to be perfectly honest, that didn't much disturb him. In fact, he was somewhat relieved he would never have to copulate with a woman in order to procreate and the idea of a new life developing inside of his body was kind of... nice, in some ways.

He only wished it wouldn't be so soon and with someone he may never be able to love.

As the newly turned vampire absentmindedly ran a hand over the light bronze skin of his smooth abdomen, he barely even noticed the occasional teardrops that fell from luxe eyelashes to run down his face.

For the rest of the day, though he'd meant to at first, Ichigo didn't sleep at all.

He swore he could feel the dominant males' presence as they invaded his home one after one, no doubt gathering in one place to lay in wait for him.

Ichigo adjusted the new cravat he'd found in the outfit someone (Rangiku) had chosen for him when he'd been outside that morning and had been set aside by his dresser to change into when it neared close to quarter to five. There had also been a note left on top of the pile of fabric written in the strawberry blonde's distinctive loopy penmanship that stated that it had been fashioned after the clothes the male submissives before him had worn.

The outfit wasn't terribly different from what he usually wore, but there were slight deviations that brought attention to his new androgynous features. It consisted of pure white breeches that were perhaps tighter than normal, boots almost exactly like the ones he wore to ride Zangetsu but they were dyed a pale powder blue to match his dress shirt that in the sleeves was sewn to fit snugly, the broad cuffs lined with delicate, snowy lace that formed several ruffles under the high collar that brushed the very top of Ichigo's neck. The waistcoat was the customary silk but was a soft white embroidered with an intricate silver pattern, the same silver as his cravat that was uncommonly fashioned into a complete bow with a sapphire fastened in the middle. The waistcoat was also peculiar for the way it fitted extraordinarily securely around his waist, accentuating the effeminate curves he'd recently acquired.

Studying himself in the mirror, the youth was disheartened to see that it was a possibility some would have trouble guessing his gender, especially since the only thing he could do with his femininely long, tangerine hair was to leave it loose over his shoulders and let it frame his lovely face with its mussed waves and soft spikes. He scowled at his reflection but stopped when he saw that he just looked as if he were pouting coquettishly. Frustrated, he turned away from the mirror altogether and strode out of his bedroom.

The walk to where he'd been informed Elder Sasakibe was waiting for him was too brief for Ichigo's liking. He all too soon rounded the corner at the bottom of one of the manor's many staircases to see the elder vampire standing by the double doors leading to the formal parlour, a room he'd only been in a handful of times.

"Ah Ichigo, there you are," Sasakibe said, greeting him with a polite smile. "I trust you are well-rested and ready to greet your guests?"

All the orangette could do was nod as he swallowed down the bile that was rising in his throat and dug his fingernails into his palms as he clenched his hands clothed in another pair of white gloves on either side of him. He allowed the other male to place what he was sure to be a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Good, good," Sasakibe said. "Then we are ready to begin." He gestured to the servant who stood beside the doors and the latter dutifully went to fling them open, bowing out of the way automatically as the Elder stepped forward and guided Ichigo to stand in front of him.

The Kuchiki Manor parlour room was a spectacular example of architecture and design with gold filigree covering the walls and ceiling and furnished with antique couches, armchairs, and one mahogany coffee table that was worth more than everything else in the room combined. However all of this was hidden by the massive amount of dominant male vampires that had somehow been stuffed into the room and were now drinking in the new arrival with hungry eyes.

They were of all shapes and sizes, not to mention ages- some of them only looked a few years older than himself and there were others who easily looked several times his age. The only thing they all had in common were the ever-present pair of pearly fangs protruding from between their lips. Ichigo also took note that Byakuya was nowhere to be seen; perhaps he wouldn't join them until he and the Elder had to question the dominants over the course of dinner.

Though what they could possibly be eating was puzzling...

"Gentlemen, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce Ichigo Kurosaki," Sasakibe said proudly as if he'd known the orangette much longer than the measly hours they'd been acquainted with each other. "As tradition dictates, all of you will be allotted three minutes to meet with him in the adjacent parlour and as the appointed Elder, I will be chaperoning these brief meetings. Are there any questions?"

The dozens of male vampires didn't even appear as if they'd heard the older male, gazes directly focused on Ichigo, who shifted from foot to foot uneasily. He felt like a slab of meat thrown in the middle of a starving crowd who were ready to fight to the death for the chance to devour him.

"Excellent. If you would please follow me, Ichigo." Sasakibe used the hand that still rested on his shoulder to lead him through the horde of dominants that shuffled aside to make a path for them and to the door that was directly across the room. The teenager couldn't help but to look down as they passed, not wanting to meet those hungry stares, and it wasn't nearly soon enough when they reached the door, letting another servant open it and usher them through into the smaller parlour that lay beyond.

A much more intimate setting was arranged in this room, two plush armchairs faced each other in front of a fireplace that was empty due to it being July. But the candelabras mounted onto the walls were lit, casting the entire vicinity with a warm glow. Ironic as Ichigo felt anything but.

Elder Sasakibe directed for him to sit down on the armchair facing away from the door and informed him that he would bring the suitors in one at a time and then Ichigo would be expected to ask the other about themselves, which the orangette automatically dreaded as he was terrible at making small talk in everyday situations, let alone the event where he would be meeting his future lifelong mate for the first time.

The first dominant vampire the Elder let into the room had Ichigo's heart stopping when he saw hold old the man was, appearing as if he were a human well into his sixties. Fortunately he never lost composure and managed to plaster a false smile on his face when Sasakibe introduced him as "Barragan Luisenbarn" and the dominant merely grunted and sat down, his burly eyebrows and mustache nearly hiding his bored expression.

"So... thank you for coming," Ichigo said, hoping that was the right thing to say.

"Well all of the females talked too much and were disrespectful little chits, so I figured I might as well give you a shot," Barragan said, shrugging. "Oh and I got this for you." The elderly vampire retrieved a box from the inside pocket of his heather green frock coat and thrust it in Ichigo's direction.

After a murmured thanks, the youth opened the box to see a ring fashioned similarly to a woman's engagement ring with one center stone of amethyst, two diamond baguettes on either side, and with a gold setting. Now he was no expert in jewelry or anything of the sort, but Ichigo thought even he would have more taste than to pair the purple stone with gold...

Needless to say the rest of the three minutes passed by for the most part in awkward silence.

Most of the rest of the evening's meetings went rather similarly, including the gift of a prospective engagement ring, which Sasakibe explained to him in between suitors was a custom to state the dominant's intent to marry.

Despite that they were blatantly proposing to him, it seemed many dominant males tried to come off as strong but silent and therefore win his affections with their masculine energy and so didn't talk much at all. Some others were complete disasters, most of the younger dominants incredibly full of themselves and acted like all around curs. Nevertheless, there were the rare few that were actually tolerable.

"Ichigo, this is Kaien Shiba," Elder Sasakibe presented to Ichigo a dominant that only appeared a few years older than himself with spiky jet black hair and sea green eyes that crinkled in the corners as he smiled brightly at the orangette, taking his seat across from him.

"Pleasure's all mine, Ichigo," he said before the submissive could say a word. "To be honest, I really had to come and see the first male submissive in over a century. That must've been pretty ghastly when you found out; to think you're one thing your whole life to find out you're something different, yes?"

"Actually, I'm getting used to it now," Ichigo said, smiling softly.

"You're a better man than me, then." Kaien shook his head, reclining back in his chair before abruptly straightening, reaching into his suit coat's front pocket to withdraw the by then infamous velvet box. "Almost forgot to give you this," he said a bit sheepishly, proffering the box to Ichigo who took it gratefully.

This ring was by far the best so far, and strangely almost the same as Barragan's as it consisted of an amethyst center stone and diamond baguettes but the setting instead of gold was brilliant platinum.

"Say, don't you have a sister? Or... an adoptive one?" Kaien asked, interrupting Ichigo's thoughts that perhaps the other male was the best in the bunch of dominants that had been invited to the manor. "Tiny little thing with dark hair, big violet eyes? Rukia?"

At the blatant enthusiasm shining in Kaien's sea green orbs, the orange-haired vampire felt his heart sink like a stone, disappointed.

"Yes, I do," he said. "And yes her name's Rukia."

"She's coming into her Inheritance soon, right?"

Ichigo sighed, closing the velvet box holding the ring and after a moment, held it out to the dominant vampire to be reclaimed by its owner. When Kaien's eyebrow arched in obvious bafflement, he elaborated.

"January fourteenth," the orangette said. "That's her sixteenth birthday so you'll probably want to hang on to this."

The dark-haired male looked stunned for a few good moments before, with a heartbreaking grin, he plucked the box out of Ichigo's hand. After pocketing it, he once again made eye contact with the submissive, grin falling so that his lips formed a straight line.

"You're a rare one, Ichigo Kurosaki," he said seriously. "You'll find a good man to spend the rest of your life with, I'm sure of it."

And then he was gone, only leaving Ichigo feeling worn out and very hopeless. He rubbed his temples with the pads of his index and middle fingers, scrunching his eyes closed as he felt a colossal headache coming on.

"Ah Ichigo, I know you must be tired from all the excitement but you will be happy to know there's only one more suitor left for you to greet," Elder Sasakibe said causing the vampire youth to perk up at the news that this mind-numbing torture was so close to its end. He heard the door open and close shut behind him and soon enough two figures were then in front of him, one being the Elder and the other a man who in human years appeared to be in his early thirties.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, this is Kugo Ginjou."

Kugo Ginjou was an attractive enough man with dark hair that reached the nape of his neck but was swept back, matching sable eyes, prominent chin, and a polite smile that was fixated on his face as the man held his hand for a few moments longer than necessary before sitting down in the armchair meant for him.

"It is such... an honor to finally make your acquaintance,... Ichigo," Ginjou said, speaking the orangette's name as if it were the dramatic very last word in a sonnet, full of meaning. But it didn't sound extraordinarily romantic as Ichigo was sure it was meant to.

"Same here," the submissive said, forgoing formalities as his mind chose to focus on the bit of information that after the male in front of him's time was up, he could retreat back to his bedroom and recover from the entire ordeal.

Their conversation went much like the others, though Ginjou had a certain... air about him that felt slightly off, not to mention the ring he gifted Ichigo with was certainly unique being that it held a center stone of over twenty carats of a pink diamond in a heart-shaped cut. It was absolutely laughable for Ichigo to imagine himself wearing it.

And when it was time for the dominant to leave, unlike the others he once again grasped the younger male's hand in his and not hesitating to press his fanged lips to the back of the gloved appendage, forcing Ichigo to suppress his shudders of distaste.

Blissfully, the orangette was then given permission by Elder Sasakibe to return to his rooms in order for he, Byakuya, and the dominants to talk amongst themselves. Apparently when he would return the next night the amount of suitors would be thinned out by at least half.

Ichigo rushed away from the place where all of the males that stared at him hungrily were gathered as fast as he could to barricade himself in his bedroom. Once he locked the door behind him, he gave a long-suffering sigh and threw himself onto his bed. However, once he did so there was the distinctive sound of paper rustling and so the next second he sat up to see that a envelope addressed to him by first name only had been placing on top of the duvet.

Frowning in confusion, he reached for it and easily ripped through the top of the envelope despite the wax seal and withdrew an incredibly short length of parchment upon which a brief letter was written in impeccable penmanship.

Ichigo,

You will soon know how long I've waited for the chance to meet you after you blossomed into the beautiful creature that you are because we will soon be together forever.

Sincerely,

An Admirer

And as if that wasn't enough of a surprise, when Ichigo opened his mouth to whisper "That's strange" to himself, arms shot out seemingly out of nowhere to encase his torso in a vise-like grip, a hand holding a funny smelling rag clapping over his mouth and effectively silencing him.

Just before consciousness left him due to what he was sure the rag was doused in, he heard a silvery, seductive voice right by his ear.

"My my, such a pretty thing ya are. Mus' be my lucky day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Holy crap you guys, I finally get the guts to post the first chapter, not expecting many people interested in this story because of its crazy plot and what do you know, I get you lovely readers reviewing saying you like it! *throws confetti* I can't express how much I love you all. :3
> 
> Oh yes, and I would like to point out that I do not use the term 'submissive' because I believe females submit to men and Ichigo should too because he can bear children, I've used it because that is what I think this is what the aristocratic, male-dominated vampiric society would choose to call his unique state. Hope that clears things up a bit...
> 
> Dedz to Cerulean-Guava for helping me with the "Elders" and to ryuuken5 for doing so with the chapter title.
> 
> I hope you all liked this chapter and I'll see you next time! : )
> 
> Ah, almost forgot - Grimmjow and Shiro to appear next chapter, as well as Renji.


	3. Bittersweet Dreams

The rain was pouring down from the sky in icy sheets, so hard and fast it was almost impossible for Ichigo to determine where he was. And yet, his feet seemed to know the way to where he was headed as they seemed to move of their own accord, carrying him through what he could vaguely make out as a city street in one of the province's poorer districts. There was not a single other person out in the open, no one else brave, or stupid, enough to face the stormy weather.

A dark cloak was wrapped around his body, though it did the orangette little good as it was now thoroughly soaked from the torrential downpour. The winds picked up then, bitterly cold air forcing the hood back from Ichigo's face and long locks of sunset orange hair to thrash about. He shivered violently and hugged himself in an attempt to conserve body heat, not even blinking upon finding that instead of his arms lying flat against his chest as they always had, now they rested on the top of a rounded stomach.

Ichigo quickened his pace once he was able to discern the distinctive outline of a chapel set on a hill overlooking the city, but he was unable to run or even jog, hindered by the extra weight around his middle. Nevertheless, there was a burning determination that kept him moving forward until he could see up close that the chapel was fashioned from whitewashed wood and boasted bright red shutters and double doors.

Walking right past the entryway, the teenager made for what lay beside the building; a small graveyard filled with stone tombstones and watched over by a massive statue of an angel whose wings were flung out as if they could provide shelter from the rain for the resting places of the departed. A streak of lightning flared somewhere behind him, illuminating everything perfectly for an instant before it disappeared just as suddenly to the sound of booming thunder.

Ichigo approached the waist-high iron wrought gate wrapped around the small graveyard, breathing suddenly difficult and the urge to flee overwhelming.

But he hadn't come this far to run away now and so summoningthe courage to continue into the graveyard, Ichigo crossed the border to the hallowed ground. His gaze swept over engraved lettering and inscriptions, searching.

When he somehow spotted the smallest grave marker of them all in the very back, he felt in his very bones, knowing that it was the exact one he was looking for.

The youth tread through the rows of age-worn headstones at a glacial pace, nerves wracking his body as his previous surety drained away. He felt bile rise in his throat and instinctively lowered his hold around himself to cradle his rounded stomach, a small comfort that inexplicably calmed the raging tidal waves of emotion the boy was experiencing.

The modestly sized cross tombstone, engraved with a wreath of roses in the center, grew clearer and clearer in spite of the rain as he neared, now almost close enough to read the inscription there.

"Ichigo!" a voice full of nearly tangible anxiety and worry called his name.

The orangette's head immediately whipped around to where the voice had originated, but before he could even see if anyone was there everything around him blurred and darkened. Panicked, he tried to rush towards the person calling for him, but in an instant he was enveloped in pitch black.

And that was when he realized he was dreaming.

Ichigo sat straight up with a gasp, eyes snapping open as his chest heaved like he'd been running for his life instead of merely sleeping. Laying a hand over his rapidly beating heart and grasping a handful of long, tangerine hair in the other, he willed himself to calm down.

It had only been a dream, but it had been unlike any other he'd had before. Everything had been entirely too intense, too real, for his liking. However, the orangette then stopped thinking about it when he heard an amused chuckle to his left.

At first, he had no memory of the night before and assumed himself to be in his bed in Kuchiki manor, but that was soon disproved by the fact that what he was currently sitting on was nowhere near as soft as his goose feather mattress and he was fairly certain he'd never awakened in the morning at home to lift his head and see in the dim light a pair of strange eyes staring straight at him.

Sleep-dazed mocha eyes blinked a few times as Ichigo's mind tried to make sense of things. Wherever he was instead of his bedroom was nearly pitch black, a single ray of early morning bluish light filtering through a small window across from him to illuminate a portion of dust-covered hardwood floor. The same floor on which he had presumably been sleeping beforehand for god knows how long. An unfamiliar suit jacket lay in Ichigo's lap from where it had been thrown over him, serving as a makeshift blanket.

The owner of those piercing eyes was nothing but a shadowy figure not twenty feet away, the outline visible enough that Ichigo could see it was male and had hair and skin so pale they glowed in the dark atmosphere, making it that much harder to see the finer physical features.

"Bad dream?"

Ichigo frowned, the man's voice was distinctive, that was for sure. It possessed a lilting, distorted quality and somehow it seemed... familiar.

"My my, such a pretty thing ya are. Mus' be my lucky day."

The words he'd heard right before he'd lost consciousness flickered through his mind, the voice in which they had been spoken unmistakable and the orangette felt his heart seize as he concluded that the figure before him had been the very person who'd caught him by surprise and knocked him out with a drugged rag the night before.

Ichigo managed to stifle the scream that threatened to burst from his mouth as the reality of the situation dawned upon him by biting down hard enough on his bottom lip that his fangs pierced the flesh. Eyes wide in panic, he instinctively backed away using his feet and hands to put as much distance between himself and his kidnapper as possible. Not daring to look away from the other for even a second, he met the stone wall behind him with the back of his head.

The teenaged vampire muffled his pained yelp, suddenly glad it was too dark to really see anything as his vision blurred for a few seconds before clearing again. He reached with one hand to gingerly touch the place that had collided with the wall, wincing when he felt a trickle of blood there, still not tearing his anxious gaze away from the figure across the room, wishing the man to stay where he was.

However, Ichigo's kidnapper seemed to have other ideas because in the dim lighting the orangette saw him push away from the wall he'd been leaning against to walk across the room, stepping directly into the ray of light, the action looking as if his physical form suddenly materialized from the shadow he'd previously been and what was then visible to the orangette certainly wasn't disappointing.

The man was like some sort of pagan god of winter brought to life, his skin so pale it was perfectly alabaster and the shaggy, shoulder-length locks of hair that framed an ethereally attractive face just as white as freshly fallen snow. His lean form was mostly covered by an all black ensemble including a work shirt that was left open at the collar to reveal the beginnings of finely toned pectoral muscles.

But what really left Ichigo breathless were the man's eyes, completely different than anything he'd ever seen before they were like pools of shadow in which rested black hole golden suns. They were positively hypnotic and he swore as they made eye contact he could never tire of staring into them.

Though he was pretty sure that shouldn't be a sane person's reaction to seeing their kidnapper's face for the first time.

"Yer quite tha skittish one, aren' ya?" the man said, his lips like porcelain parting into an amused grin that showed off two particularly sharp, elongated incisors. So, he was a vampire then. "Don' worry yer pretty little head, sweethear', I ain't gonna do anything to ya."

Ichigo's brow furrowed, demeanor instantly changing due to the outrage he felt upon being called 'pretty' and 'sweetheart,' and In the same sentence no less. He growled out of the corner of his mouth, glaring daggers up at the snowy-haired vampire.

"Yeah, right," he said venomously. "I'm supposed to believe that the insane bastard who snuck into my room, drugged me so that I couldn't fight back, and then brought me to wherever the hell this place is, isn't going to 'do anything' to me? Surely even you couldn't be that stupid."

Bracing himself for the punch in the face or kick in the ribs or whatever pain the other vampire would undoubtedly inflict upon him for the insult, Ichigo was surprised to say the least when he instead bent down so that their faces were mere inches apart, the intensity of those peculiar eyes so close to his so overwhelming the orange-haired youth couldn't even think about looking away.

"Ya have some nerve talkin' to yer captor like tha', 'specially when we're so far 'way from anyone who could help ya if I didn't play nice," the white-haired male said, tapping a finger to his lips as he cocked his head to the side. "I though' they always drove any backbone outta the submissives, trained 'em ta be, wha' is it... seen not heard?"

Ichigo was tempted to snort at that but instead merely frowned heavily, wondering if the other was toying with him before he moved on to... whatever his plans were. The orangette thought back to what Rukia had told him just the day before, that dominant male vampires (which this one clearly was) couldn't physically hurt one with the ability to bear children. Had she been mistaken or was the one who'd kidnapped him spoke the truth about not doing anything to him?

And if he was, why then did he snatch the submissive from the manor in the first place?

"I'm not an animal," Ichigo finally said, his tone bitter. "No one can 'train' me to be anything."

He wasn't sure why he'd even bothered to respond to the offensive question but it appeared to please the other vampire as his grin widened, gold on black eyes sparkling. And Ichigo was definitely sure he shouldn't find the image stunning.

"I see," the pale vampire said thoughtfully. "Ya mus' be who everyone's talkin' bout then, tha one didn' know ya were one of us or somethin' like that. Ichiro, righ'?"

Ichigo's eyebrows shot up to his hairline in disbelief. Had this lunatic taken him away without even knowing his name?

"Are you serious?" the orangette said. "You broke into my bedroom and kidnapped me without knowing who I was?"

"'ey, I'm not one 'a yer suitors. I don' have to know yer whole life story ta snatch ya away from righ' under their noses. Hope ya don' have ta marry one 'a those imbeciles, no one even considered tha explosion was a distraction. Jus' pathetic, really."

The other male straightened to his full height, shaking his head but smiling at his obvious feeling of superiority.

Ichigo's personal space now no longer being invaded, his brain started to function properly again, going back to what his captor had said, making his heart stop in horror.

"Explosion?" he gasped, images of his childhood home being destroyed in a fiery blast flitting through his mind's eye.

"Relax, would ya? No one died or nothin', it was on tha grounds. Took out tha stables, though."

Ichigo was grateful he was then still sitting propped up against the wall as he suddenly felt faint, heart in his throat and eyes burning with the tidal wave of grief that crashed over him.

Zangetsu.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other vampire take a step towards him. Ichigo could feel the agonizing sense of loss and horror at the news of his beloved companion's violent end warp into unadulterated rage and using the wall behind him as support he stood on unsteady legs. His entire body was shaking, vibrating, with ire unlike anything he'd felt before.

He wanted to verbalize his anger, curse the unnaturally pale lowlife who spoke of the destruction of the estate's stables so casually to hell and back, but words were beyond him at that moment. And when Ichigo made eye contact with the bizarre pair of gold and black orbs something odd happened.

The sorrow and rage the orangette had been experiencing instantly vanished, as if they had been ripped from him by force and now he was void of emotion, calm but not exactly at peace. It was a horrifically unnatural feeling, leaving him as weak as a newborn lamb and to lean heavily against the stone wall to his back.

"What... did you do to me?" Ichigo said wearily. The white-haired male for the first time since his captive had woken let his grin fall and sighed before looking away from the submissive male to stare out of the window.

"Sorry 'bout tha', but can' have ya tryin' ta kill me 'fore we even reach tha city," he said.

Ichigo didn't even bother to ask what city he talking about. He felt drained, exhausted already by this whole ordeal and he just wanted to know one thing.

"Why me?" he said, a feeble chuckle following his words as he realized how dramatic it sounded.

"Ya haven' figured it out by now?" The pale vampire seemed surprised, arching a white eyebrow suspiciously. When Ichigo didn't respond, he spoke again. "Yer guardian, Kuchiki, 'as more money than God and yer the firs' male submissive in decades, and a sight fer sore eyes at tha'. Somebody will be willin' ta pay up fer yer safe return."

"So you're holding me for ransom." Ichigo was puzzled when he found himself to be a little disappointed at the explanation. Silly as it sounded, if he was going to be kidnapped he would like for it to have been for a more romantic reason than money. Plus, he couldn't imagine anyone likely to pay a large sum just to guarantee his safety, not even Byakuya, especially not Byakuya.

"Ya bet yer sweet ass we are. After this I'll be able ta retire!" His kidnapper's grin returned then and Ichigo could imagine the other male imagining himself swimming in a vault full of gold, but something he'd said confused the youth.

"We?"

"Well yea', wasn't 'xactly a one man job gettin' ya outta there wit' all 'a those nobles struttin' about." The vampire's handsome face darkened momentarily as he spoke of the 'nobles' but the orangette figured him to most likely be some poor street rat turned criminal and so held the same contempt all the less fortunate citizens of Rukongai seemed to share.

Ichigo was relieved to notice that he no longer was experiencing the effects of whatever the other's mental ability had done to him, though he was much calmer than he should've been considering the situation. However, he decided it was actually for the better, because now despite his grief over Zangetsu's death he could think rationally and he needed to do just that if he wanted to figure out how to escape his captor and make his way back to those few that cared about him.

As the sun rose over the horizon more light filtered in through the window, revealing the structure they were in to be some kind of abandoned shack, completely bereft save for its roof and four walls.

Disappointed when he didn't even have a clue as to where they could be but figuring their location wasn't anywhere close to the Kuchiki estate, the boy decided then that it was for the best to play the part of docile captive until the opportunity to escape presented itself.

Well, he would try at least. But if that pale psychopath, or anyone, so much as looked at him the wrong way, Ichigo knew his reckless, impulsive nature wouldn't hesitate to throw caution to the wind and pounce on the unfortunate soul. Just because he was given the label 'submissive' didn't mean he couldn't hold his own in a fight.

"So I'm guessin' Ichiro's not yer name, then?"

Wondering why he was even entertaining the thought of having a civil conversation with the person who'd forcibly taken him from his home, the boy shook his head lifting his eyes from the dust-covered floor to gaze upon the flawless face of his kidnapper.

He guessed that the other vampire tying for first place for most attractive person he'd ever seen may have had something to do with it.

"It's Ichigo," he said after a moment.

"Ichigo," the white-haired male repeated, a contemplative expression pulling his eyebrows together. However, after a moment it melted back into the usual smirk. "Name's Shirosaki, but anyone wit' a face like yers can call me Shiro."

Ichigo forced a laugh at the mock attempt at flirting with him as the vampire then waggled his eyebrows. But he was mortified as his face suddenly heated at the compliment, even if it was supposed to be a joke. He should be offended that the person holding him hostage had tried to flatter him, not blushing like a girl fresh out of finishing school.

Outside of the shack there was what sounded like a thud followed by a yelp of pain and loud, barking laughter.

"Ah, finally tha kitty cat and Big Red show up," Shiro said, apparently able to see the source of the clamor at his spot by the window. He then made for the door, looking over his shoulder to where Ichigo was standing. "C'mon then, ya don' wanna stay 'ere do ya?"

The submissive vampire swallowed back his sarcastic answer and hesitantly followed Shiro outside.

It was immediately apparent as they stepped out into the early morning sunlight that they were nowhere near the Kuchiki estate, nor anything else for that matter. The shack they'd been inside of was surrounded by deciduous trees, obviously smack in the middle of a wooded forest that Ichigo didn't recognize at all which meant he had to at least wait until they reached the city Shiro had mentioned earlier.

Speaking of Shiro, Ichigo was horrified to see that the man was even more attractive when fully visible in the natural light and that he'd failed to notice the twin pistols in harnesses attached to the belt lying low on lean hips. Averting his eyes immediately, he then saw just who'd been laughing loud enough to wake the dead.

The orangette mentally added a third spot in first place on his list of most attractive people.

This one was coincidentally also a vampire, ivory, pointed fangs on full display even as his laughter died out. And from even the several yards between them, Ichigo could make out a lethally handsome face with strong, angular features displaying a wicked grin and a head of tousled sky blue hair that somehow seemed completely natural.

The newcomer dismounted from a pure white Arabian, revealing the full extent of what had to be a body to die for under his layer of dark clothing close to what Shiro was wearing, down to identical pistols on his own belt. As the vampire beside Ichigo continued forward, the blue-haired male looked their way and the orangette could've sworn for a moment that those strikingly blue eyes had turned him to stone, unable to move.

However the neighing of a horse called him back to reality and as soon as Ichigo's eyes swiveled over to see a jet black stallion trying to break free from the person holding onto his reins he barely registered that he was moving, dashing forward to fling himself into the side of the animal.

"So tha's why ya got all riled up 'bout tha stables," he heard Shiro say. "Probably should'a told ya we had Red take tha horses 'fore it blew up."

Ichigo figured he should've thoroughly throttled Shiro for making him believe Zangetsu was dead, but he was just too blithe at seeing his horse just as alive as ever that he couldn't find it in him to be angry. There was a derisive snort from the blue-haired vampire, who then spoke in a gravelly yet velveteen voice.

"Glad to see you're doing your usual bang up job with this one," he said, addressing Shiro with words seeped in sarcasm. "Letting him run around with a head wound so we can chase after him when he tries to make a run for it, a waste considering no one's going to cough up a good amount of cash when he's brain damaged from you hitting him over the head."

"'ey, I didn' touch 'im!"

"Bullshit. Am I supposed to believe blood just magically appeared on his head then?"

"Piss off, Grimmjow. He knocked 'is head into tha wall, and I'll remind ya if it weren't fer me, ya would'a never been able ta nab 'im in tha firs' place."

Both vampires snarled dangerously and when there was the distinctive sound of a fist against flesh, Ichigo looked up from where he'd buried his face into Zangetsu's neck to see Shiro and the one named Grimmjow wrestling around on the ground, hands on each other's throats and growling like animals. He frowned, wondering if they were seriously fighting or working out their aggression.

"Hey morons, we'll never make it in time if we don't get going and I ain't sleeping on the ground tonight," a voice from Zangetsu's other side said and Ichigo swore it sounded familiar but couldn't exactly place it. "So kiss and make-up already."

Astonishingly, both of the males stilled and Ichigo's jaw dropped as he watched Shiro angle his head from where he was pinned to the ground by the other's body to press his lips firmly against Grimmjow's. The blue-haired vampire didn't respond to this as Ichigo thought he might, neither kissing back or pummeling Shiro to a pulp. Instead he merely pushed the paler male back to the ground and stood up making Shiro cackle like a madman before he too got to his feet.

When the snowy-haired man winked his way, Ichigo's face burned and he turned his head, unknowingly looking straight to where the owner of the familiar voice stood by his own mount.

The long crimson hair and tattooed eyebrows over a pair of russet eyes that were staring directly at him were only too recognizable.

It was illogical to feel the kind of betrayal he did at that moment, but Ichigo did so anyway and his expression turned to ice. He wouldn't give that person the satisfaction of being angered by their deception.

"I suppose I owe you another thanks for saving my horse again," he said.

Renji's face was unreadable and he said nothing in return, nor did he get the chance to because someone then addressed Ichigo, diverting his attention.

"Hey, you." It was Grimmjow, who now held in an outstretched hand some sort of medical gauze, which Ichigo automatically reached to accept. "Patch yourself up so you don't bleed everywhere."

Then he was gone, climbing onto his horse as Renji and Shiro did the same.

Ichigo figured it was best not to point out it was impossible for him to bandage the wound he'd acquired from hitting his head against the wall since he couldn't see it. He supposed using some kind of twisted logic he should be grateful to have captors that would give him such a thing in the first place.

Stuffing the gauze into the waistcoat he was still wearing from the night before for safekeeping, he mounted Zangetsu with ease, relaxing into the familiar seat of the saddle.

"Don' go runnin' off now, Ichi," Shiro said from atop his own horse, his tone like a parent chastising their child.

Ichigo didn't say aloud that he wasn't planning on it.

At least, not until they reached the city. Then he would only have to wait for the opportunity to escape. If things went well, he could be sleeping in his own bed by tomorrow night.

He didn't think about how there was a part of him that never wanted to go back to the manor and live under the thumb of someone he barely knew. No, he wouldn't think about that. He wouldn't, he wouldn't.

And he definitely wouldn't think about how things may have been different had any of his three captors been rich or nobility and they'd been the one chosen for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am so sorry this took longer than usual. Life has been rather demanding lately. ^^' I'll update again as soon as I can. :D
> 
> Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! They inspire me. I wonder if anyone can guess what Shiro or Ichigo's ability are yet or what the beginning dream sequence could possibly mean... :3
> 
> To help out those like me who speed read through stories to get to the good parts and forget some of the information, here's a quick summary about the vampires and setting in this story.
> 
> Rukongai is the province where the story takes place. It is parallel to late nineteenth century Victorian England in every way except half of it's population are vampires. This is crucial to the story, because, as it was in those times, society worships the aristocrats and has severely heteronormatized gender roles, leaving women and male submissive vampires with little rights or freedom.
> 
> The vampires in this story:
> 
> \- are practically normal human children until they breach their Inheritance on their sixteenth birthday, which is when they grow their fangs, develop the thirst for blood, gain strength, speed, and reflexes superior to a human's and a mental ability (superpower), like Rangiku's lie detection and Byakuya's telepathic power to receive thoughts meant specifically for him. These abilities may take days or weeks to show itself (like in Ichigo's case.)
> 
> \- also, immediately following a female or male submissive's Inheritance, the patriarch makes an announcement, inviting all unattached dominant male vampires interested in finding a mate to pursue their daughter or son. Notably it is the father and an Elder who make the final decision.
> 
> \- live peacefully alongside humans for the most part though the two have separate governing bodies (the Elders in the vampires' case) and tend to segregate themselves.
> 
> \- are incredibly civilized, and though it hasn't been mentioned yet these vampires acquire blood from willing donors. It is taboo, despite their fangs, to actually bite a human.
> 
> \- mate for life. More on this to come.
> 
> \- are not affected by the sun, wooden stakes, garlic, crosses, mirrors, etc. Also, they are not immortal, only aging at a much slower rate than humans after their Inheritance (one human year for every ten that pass.) They can pretty much die of any of the same things humans do.


	4. Escape Routes

It was apparent soon into their trek to the nearby city that none of Ichigo's three captors were particularly loquacious. In fact, they seemed completely content to make the entire trip to their destination without saying a word. Even Shiro was silent, though occasionally from where he rode his horse in the front of the triangular formation the group traveled he sent smouldering stares with his midnight sun eyes the orangette's way.

Ichigo was determined not to react to the vampire's teasing, making a point of looking down or to the side and away from Shiro's seductive gaze. However, he couldn't stop his face from shamefully heating up when he sensed those unnaturally beautiful eyes on him, heart beating far faster than he suspected was healthy. Luckily though, these instances were few during their several hour pilgrimage along the path winding through the eerily silent and barren woods.

The one Ichigo had learned was named Grimmjow rode his rare all-white, blue-eyed Arabian to the submissive male's left, while Renji, the former stable hand at Kuchiki estate, took up the position to his right. Their horses walked so close together that every now and then their stirrups would knock into each other's, too close for the orangette to even think about escaping, let alone actually try to get away.

They underestimated him. He wasn't so daft to make a run for it while they were out in the middle of nowhere, not having a clue which direction the manor was in. Should he even manage to lose the vampires who'd kidnapped him, he would only end up hopelessly lost in the seemingly never-ending woods. Ichigo was a fair bit more clever than he let on and had already begun to think of ways to lose his captors once inside the city's walls.

It would've been ideal if he knew the actual name of their destination so he could draw on his years of geography lessons to further plan for his getaway, but he would just have to wait until they got there to find out.

About three hours after they'd left the shack on horseback, Renji abruptly gave a short whistled command that had all four horses stopping dead in their tracks. An unsuspecting Ichigo had to grab a fistful of Zangetsu's mane to steady himself as inertia pitched him forward in the saddle.

Scowling furiously in indignation, he looked up to see the redhead's burgundy gaze going straight over his head to address Grimmjow and Shiro. Jerking his head in the direction of the side of the dirt path, Renji's face was impassive, like stone, and so very different from the amicable stable hand Ichigo had thanked for saving his beloved horse just the day before.

It seemed like it had happened centuries ago, their short-lived friendship now ancient history.

Ichigo supposed he shouldn't have felt so betrayed that he could practically feel the knife in his back. He'd known the vampire for all of two days in which they conversed a grand total of one time, so his hurt at finding out Renji had been in on this scheme to kidnap and hold him for ransom didn't make any sense.

But, of course, emotions are hardly ever logical.

"Let's rest here for a bit; the horses need water," Renji said, explaining why he'd whistled for their mounts to halt.

To Ichigo's left Grimmjow grunted in agreement, a sound he managed to make appealing, before spurring his mare to head towards the side of the road. Zangetsu had no choice but to follow and the four vampires wandered over to the side of the path, all of them dismounting with ease. However, as Ichigo went to walk around the jet black stallion, wanting to make certain his horse got his fair share of the water from a canteen Renji had produced to let the animals drink from, he nearly collided into a black-clothed, porcelain torso.

Confused, the orangette lifted suspicious toffee brown eyes to gaze into Shiro's ghostly attractive face.

"Sorry 'bout this, Ichi, but ya have ta understand tha' we can't have ya tryin' ta make a run fer it," the albino said in that watery voice of his and before Ichigo could wonder what he possibly meant by that, his wrists were captured in a firm grasp rendering him unable to break away as a thick rope wound around them, binding his hands in front of him.

"You don't have to tie me up, I'm not stupid enough to run away in the middle of a forest," Ichigo protested adamantly, trying to free his wrists from Shiro's iron grip. After he realized what he'd just said, the submissive vampire mentally kicked himself for coming so close to revealing his plans.

"'A course ya ain't," Shiro said, his tone one of an adult reassuring a child of something trivial. "Jus' gotta be on tha safe side. If ya were ta get lost out 'ere, no one would ever fin' ya."

The vampire's last sentence was spoken in his usual coy manner, but the words dripped with hidden meaning; a warning, thoroughly unnerving Ichigo. In that moment, he began to understand why Shiro was in his particular line of work, finally really seeing his captor as the hardened criminal he was. And by association, that would make Grimmjow and Renji equally as much of a threat. They had managed to sneak him out of Kuchiki Manor when most of the dominant male vampire population had been convened there; they were capable, dangerous.

A very, very small part of Ichigo shuddered in pleasure. He'd never tasted danger before, having been locked away in the manor for the past decade, and its flavor was much sweeter than he could've imagined.

Ichigo remained silent as Shiro fastened the end of the rope binding his wrists to the reins of the white mare with blue eyes to match her owner's. The white-haired vampire didn't say another word before ambling off to join where his blunette and redheaded co-conspirators were standing a few yards away, heads bowed as they spoke in whispers too quiet for the orangette to hear.

The mare he was tethered to tossed her head, training her unusually colored eyes on Ichigo before nudging his hands with her nose. He knew from experience caring for Zangetsu this action translated to 'pet me, now' and so he tore his gaze away from where the three males were discussing unknown matters to make eye contact with the female horse and run his bound hands over the silky coat on her neck the best he could. Ichigo's heart normally would've warmed at the content whinny the mare gave, but instead under the circumstances barely heard it.

"Ichigo," a deep voice said and the orangette looked up from the white horse's hooves to see the one who deigned to directly address him was none other than the crimson-haired backstabber himself. Ichigo absentmindedly noticed that Renji was wearing a black bandana wrapped around his head, covering his tattooed eyebrows, and before he could help himself, thought if Renji were to free his scarlet hair of its messy ponytail and let it lay loose over his shoulders he'd be beyond stunning.

Ignoring that last thought, the submissive vampire silently raged that Renji dared to call him by his first name. He'd only allowed it before because he'd naively believed the male had only been a stable hand brave enough to stand up to his manager for the sake of an innocent animal.

Ha, Ichigo now wouldn't it put it past the other to have staged that little scene in order to gain his trust.

"Here," Renji said once it was evident Ichigo was giving him the silent treatment, holding up a tin canister with an opening at the top to sip from. When the slighter male pursed his lips and turned his head to the side childishly, the redhead sighed, proffering the canister. "Drink some or you'll pass out, and there's no one around here for miles..."

Ichigo glared at the crimson-haired vampire with burning ochre eyes, hoping he managed to come across as angry instead of coquettishly pouty, the former now common since his Inheritance. Nevertheless, he was convinced by Renji's reasoning and went to grab the canister, forgetting his hands were bound until the rope cut into his skin. He immediately let them drop back to his front.

The two of them stood there for a long moment, the orangette considering refusing the sustenance altogether and faint for the second time in the past three days in the presence of his three kidnappers because he definitely didn't relish the idea of his only other option.

"Just drink it," Renji finally said, exasperated, thrusting the canister in front of Ichigo's face.

Mentally cursing up a storm, the teenager lowered his head to press his lips to the opening of the tin vessel, cheeks flushing as the redhead holding the canister tipped it so that the tangy, delicious liquid inside flooded Ichigo's mouth. The submissive could only imagine what any passerby would've thought had they caught a glimpse of him, bound with rope drinking the cherry red blood while the larger male held the canister to his lips.

Ichigo couldn't believe he'd forgotten how utterly heavenly the life-sustaining blood tasted. Instinctively his eyelids fluttered as a small, blissful moan escaped his parted lips and only just managed to stop himself from whining pathetically when Renji pulled the canister away The vampire's expression was unreadable as he stored the thing away in his overcoat for safekeeping.

Ichigo thought back to what Rangiku had informed him of the day before, how vampires had to make sure to drink precisely enough blood to satiate their thirst. Drinking too much, she'd said, was just as bad as drinking too little.

"Good now?" Renji said and the teenager nodded once, staring back down to the ground, a serene, content feeling washing over him in the wake of his daily feeding.

His toothsome captor didn't say anything else before returning to where the other dominant vampires conversed out of earshot. Ichigo let his eyes subtly follow the male, clandestinely watching the ones who held him against his will as they discussed something on which they clearly couldn't agree. Grimmjow's handsome face twisted into a snarl while the other two appeared to hiss at each other, agitated.

A tiny bud of hope blossomed in the orangette's chest. Animosity among the three was a good sign, especially if it grew to the point where they no longer communicated effectively or outright fought with each other. If they continued to argue like this, there would inevitably be some kind of mistake made in Ichigo's favor.

When the three dominants evidently came to some kind of tentative agreement and stalked back to where the horses and captive were, the submissive vampire made sure to keep his eyes on the ground like it was the most interesting thing in the world to hide how closely he'd been observing them.

After Shiro freed him from his bindings, Ichigo mounted Zangetsu to return to his former position as dead center in the foursome. A quick look to the sky confirmed it was high noon, meaning the city was still half a day's travel away. But that didn't discourage the orange-haired youth one bit; that gave him more time in which to think of possible escape routes. The three males had underestimated him and his ability to be cunning, and a petulant part of Ichigo couldn't wait to shove it in their faces when he slipped right through their fingers.

However, in his mental tirade on how his captors had underestimated him, Ichigo failed to wonder whether he'd in fact underestimated them. Especially the one he knew the least about, Grimmjow. And it wouldn't be until later that evening that he would regret that dearly.

The city's name turned out to be Hokutan and Ichigo was surprised to see even from a distance as they approached the gated entrance that it looked every inch the picture perfect, clean, safe city the human aristocrats made their stomping ground during their social season.

As the sun set over the horizon they drew closer to the city's main gates, guarded by several men in unfamiliar red uniforms, the teenager wondered how the other three intended to pass through. They were just the kind of riffraff cities like this one built walls to keep out.

Wordlessly, Shiro threw a dark traveling cloak over Ichigo, hiding his fine clothes from sight before securing a newsboy cap over his head, tucking in the submissive's long strands of tangerine hair so it couldn't be seen either. Ichigo bristled at being manhandled by the albino but refrained from pushing the other away from him, knowing he definitely wouldn't win that fight. Not to mention, it was clear Shiro didn't want him to be recognized and there weren't too many male sixteen year-olds with shoulder-blade length hair the color of sunshine.

"Halt!" one of the guards called from his position by the gate, holding up a lantern in one hand and lifting his free palm to signal them to stop. "State your business," he said, peering at the trio of males with equally eye-catching heads of hair, completely ignoring Ichigo who faded into background with his new attire.

"We're just passing through on our way to Seireitei," Grimmjow said, urging his mare to take a few steps before retrieving something from the inside of his overcoat to show the guard, whose eyes widened upon seeing whatever it was, demeanor switching from confident to jittery instantly. Ichigo craned his neck in an effort to see for himself what this thing was, but only managed to spot a glint of something metallic before it disappeared back into the blunette's inside pocket.

"Yes, yes of course," the guard said, stammering as he frantically motioned behind him for the others by the entrance to open the gates. "Go on ahead, gentlemen."

Ichigo was intrigued to say the least, and not just by what Grimmjow could've potentially shown to the guard but also if he'd been telling the truth when he said they were on their way to Seireitei, Rukongai's capital city said to be so lavish and orderly it made cities like Hokutan look like the slums in comparison. In short, not exactly where one would expect to be taken upon being kidnapped.

The entrance led directly to the city's main street, almost entirely deserted now that it was dark and there weren't any miscreants lurking about. In fact, the cobblestone street lined with small businesses, shops, and the occasional townhouse would've come across as abandoned had it not been for the group of red-uniformed human men patrolling individual sections.

It was a strange sight in Ichigo's eyes. He'd lived the last ten years in the country and could barely remember his time in another city's orphanage before then, so when he asked what the men in red were doing he felt all three of his captor's answering laughter uncalled for.

"Ya mean ya've never heard 'a tha Watchmen?"

"No, I haven't," Ichigo said, scowling in both confusion and irritation from being laughed at. It wasn't his fault he'd never heard of these 'Watchmen', but... why hadn't he?

"You been living under a rock or something?" Grimmjow snorted under his breath and shook his head disbelievingly.

"No." The teenager huffed, not daring to say what he really wanted as long as those pistols were secured to the blunette's belt.

Every last one of the men in red uniform faced their party as they traveled up the street, their horses shoes' clacking against the cobblestone sounding thunderous in the otherwise silent atmosphere. Ichigo could make out their distrustful expressions with the help of the tall gas lamps, a relatively new invention.

"Watchmen are the Parliament's law enforcers," Renji said to his right. "And they hate our kind, so watch your back."

Ichigo knew he was acting childish by not thanking or even responding to the redhead, but he wasn't about to try and patch things up with the vampire who helped to kidnap him so he figured it didn't really matter how he treated his captors. He just had to make sure not to piss any of them off so badly they decided to cut their losses and kill him.

Strange though, what Renji had said about these Watchmen. To Ichigo's knowledge, there weren't any groups of humans that straight out despised their kind, and vice versa.

"Ah, 'ere we are," Shiro said, reigning his horse to a stop. The submissive male followed the man's gaze to their right where one of the few buildings burning candles in its windows was located, a sign above its doorway declaring it to be the 'Hokutan Inn.'

Not the most creative name, but Ichigo didn't care, much more focused on scouting out the place for possible exits.

Following the other males' lead, the orangette dismounted to stand beside Zangetsu on the cobblestone street, immediately patting the horse's neck lovingly. He was grateful for the one source of comfort, and that it was transportation he needed to get back to the manor. However, the next second Renji gripped the stallion's reins along with the other three horses' and Ichigo struggled not to rip them right out of the redhead's hands.

"Make sure whatever imbeciles work there don't feed Pantera-"

"Sugar cubes; they're bad for her teeth. I know," Renji said, rolling his eyes after cutting Grimmjow off. The blunette didn't look too pleased, thin blue brows furrowing as his nostrils flared ultramarine eyes glittered dangerously, but turned on his heel to walk up to the inn. Unfairly, he was beautiful even from behind.

Especially from behind, Ichigo thought as his gaze lingered on the dominant male's retreating form.

But after a moment, the reality of what his captor intended to do, leading the four horses away on foot, hit him like a ton of bricks. Dread crept into his heart, mind racing with panicked thoughts of what he was going to do now that Zangetsu was being led away to be put up in one of the city's stables for the night instead of being tethered outside like the teenager had planned on.

He managed to convince himself that everything would be fine; from what he remembered from geography lessons Hokutan was a rather small city. He'd be able to find the stables Zangetsu was being taken to without a problem.

"C'mon now," Shiro said, reaching out to capture Ichigo's wrist with a pale hand before leading the orangette to the inn's doorway where Grimmjow currently stood... talking to himself?

No, Ichigo realized as they got closer, the blue-haired vampire was speaking to another person, only a portion of their face visible through a slot in the door. But when he and Shiro got close enough to hear what was being said, the slot slid closed before the door swung open.

An attractive, dark-skinned woman with aubergine hair and golden eyes stood in the doorway, wearing a coy smile that showed off her pointed canines. She crossed her arms over her chest as her gaze landed on Ichigo, still clad in the hat and traveling cloak.

"Hm," she said, tapping a finger against her lips. "I imagined you being shorter... but you certainly look like a submissive."

The youth was too taken aback by the woman's assessment that he didn't have experience the usual outrage he'd have felt being told he looked 'like a submissive.' Actually, the fact that she'd said those very words meant she knew who he was, and no doubt was at the very least aware of his current predicament, if not in on it just as much as the other three.

Both Grimmjow and Shiro gave a good laugh at the female vampire's words, Ichigo frowning deeply instead of chewing them out for thinking it funny. He was amazed by his own actions, never had he been able to hold his tongue for so long in the presence of such buffoons.

"Come in then. It'll be a while before Renji shows his ugly mug, no doubt," the woman said gaily, stepping to the side to allow the three vampires entry. Grimmjow walked in first, followed by Shiro, and then Ichigo, who surveyed his surroundings eagerly and fast became utterly confused.

The building had looked like an inn from the outside, a sign even saying it was one, but inside it was set up like any upper class family townhouse, a rather nice one at that. Looking back to where the woman was now closing the door behind them, he then noticed how elegantly she was dressed in a dark green bustled gown with a neckline bordering on 'unseemly' even for evening wear. The thing obviously cost a small fortune and the only people with money to buy something so extravagant were the nobility.

Ichigo wondered if his captors were all they seemed, or if this scheme to hold him for ransom was more complicated than he'd thought.

"It's impolite to wear hats indoors, you know," the woman said, swiping the newsboy cap from the submissive's head and letting the mane of wild tangerine hair to spill free around his face. "Surely Byakuya taught you that?" Her eyes twinkled mischievously whilst she cocked her head, waiting for an answer.

"Do you know him?" Ichigo couldn't stop himself from asking, because he didn't think he had heard anyone refer to his guardian so informally besides himself and, when the noble wasn't around, Rangiku.

"Of course I know little Byakuya, I was the one to teach him to control his ability, mine's pretty similar." The female vampire stuck out her satin-gloved hand, Ichigo reflexively grasping it in his own, not expecting the woman to firmly grip and shake his hand just as a man would. "I'm Yoruichi Shihoin."

"I'm-"

"Ichigo Kurosaki, I know," Yoruichi said, interrupting him and then facing the two dominant vampires to, quite unexpectedly, reach up and pull one of their ears harshly. The sight of Grimmjow and Shiro grimacing in pain delighted the more sadistic part of Ichigo that was satisfied to see two of his kidnappers get what was coming to them. "Now do either of you want to tell me why it is I had to hear from Kisuke how you three were planning on getting yourselves killed taking that boy when almost every male of our kind in Rukongai was there with him?"

Ichigo shuddered at the deadly tone in which Yoruichi spoke, considering the possibility she might be one of the dominants' mother but then rejecting that theory as they couldn't have looked any different.

"Aw, c'mon Yor', we jus' didn't want ya ta worry," Shiro said, wincing when Yoruichi gave both ears one last pull before letting them go. The blunette and albino immediately stood up straight and rubbed their sore ears, looking properly chastened.

"Please, I wasn't worried. I just couldn't believe you didn't invite me to come along!"

Then Ichigo wondered if the woman was insane. Surely anyone upset over someone not inviting them on what they themselves had said to be a dangerous and likely fatal mission had taken too many blows to the head or something.

"Sorry," Grimmjow said, surprising the orangette when he appeared to actually mean it.

"Yea', we're sorry, but hey- we did it!" Shiro smiled brightly at Yoruichi, whose expression turned from stern to pleasant once more as she placed a hand on their shoulders.

"Yes, you did," she said, grinning proudly up at the two males and leaving Ichigo even more baffled than before. Why was this noblewoman associating with a pair of criminals, let alone beaming over the fact they'd managed to kidnap someone? And why was her house labeled as an inn when it definitely wasn't one? Nothing about the situation made sense.

"You two go ahead into the parlour; Kisuke will be wanting to talk to the three of you." Yoruichi walked past the two vampires to wrap an arm around Ichigo's shoulders, the submissive highly uncomfortable due to her breasts pressing against his side as the dress she wore barely managed to restrain them. "I'll take care of Ichigo here. No doubt he's exhausted from dealing with you brutes all day long," she said, the last part accusatory.

"How's he been?" Grimmjow said, brows drawing together as his expression turned haunted, those sapphire eyes appearing to see what had already past rather than what was right in front of them. It almost made Ichigo pity him a bit. Almost.

"The usual," Yoruichi said somberly, the tone sounding bizarre even though Ichigo barely knew the woman. "He still tries to walk without the cane, but his leg always gives out after a minute or two."

The blunette scowled at the news and immediately turned on his heel to walk down the foyer hallway, shoulders hunched and head bowed.

"Make sure ya keep yer eye on 'im," Shiro said, referring to the captive in their presence, all traces of his earlier smile gone. "Don' want all 'a this ta have been fer nothin'." Then he was walking away too, following Grimmjow's path out of the foyer to presumably where the parlour was. Yoruichi sighed after the two males had disappeared around the corner, dropping her arm from Ichigo's shoulders to grab his wrist so that she could pull him along in the opposite direction.

Ichigo was stewing over how tired he was of being dragged around when it dawned upon him that he was currently only being watched over by a single woman. This was his chance to escape.

Whilst Yoruichi led him down the hallways of her house, the submissive vampire's mind started to race with the possibilities. And as if she knew exactly what he was up to, Yoruichi stopped short and faced Ichigo, staring directly into his toffee brown eyes with her golden orbs.

"I know you have every reason not to trust me, but take my word for it when I say trying to escape would be a very bad idea," she said. It wasn't a threat, the way she warned him. She came off nearly as if she were a mother telling her child not to do something, firm and far from malicious.

He didn't say anything, not even knowing for sure if she was merely telling him not to escape for her own selfish purposes, which, considering the circumstances, had to be why.

Yoruichi continued on, pulling Ichigo along up a set of stairs. When she spoke again, it was in a much more jovial tone.

"You're probably wondering why there's a sign outside saying this place is an inn," she said over her shoulder just as they stopped at a closed door. "Well, the reason's in here." The woman didn't hesitate before flinging the door open and stepping into the room beyond it, hauling the youth in as well.

It was immediately apparent the room was the master bedroom, a massive canopied bed set against the wall furthest from them and a pair of armchairs in front of a fireplace standing out in the exquisitely furnished space. But what really impressed Ichigo was the massive bay window with a view looking down onto the streets of Hokutan and the outlying woods.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Yoruichi said. "I can never get enough of this view, and neither can my husband. So when the district laws were passed, we claimed we were an inn and they couldn't force us to move."

At the orangette's bewildered expression, she arched an eyebrow disbelievingly.

"The district laws? The ones that segregate our kind and humans?"

"There are laws for that?" Ichigo said. He had always thought vampires and humans tended to segregate themselves into different communities; that's what he'd been told for the part of his life he could better remember.

"You're not serious, are you?" Yoruichi crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Hm, but now that I think about it Byakuya would be the type to shelter those in his care from anything he didn't like. You probably don't have a clue about the real world."

"I know enough," Ichigo said icily. He was offended at the woman's assumption that he was utterly naive to the ways of the world outside of the Kuchiki estate despite a small voice in the back of his mind admitting that to be true.

"All right, Ichigo, no need to be hostile," Yoruichi said, waving a hand dismissively. "Now, you'll be wanting to change into some clean clothes, yes?"

"That would be nice," the youth said, remembering he was still wearing the same thing as when he'd been interviewing suitors. Had it really only been a day since? It felt like years.

"I'll get something of my husband's for you, unless you'd rather borrow something of mine?" Yoruichi laughed merrily when Ichigo simultaneously glared and blushed, managing to control his temper with the reminder that soon he'd be making his way back to the manor, the other's warning meaningless.

Yoruichi walked over to an armoire and opened its doors to reveal garments standard to a typical nobleman's wardrobe, though an overwhelmingly number of clothing items were the same shade of dark green. Rifling through the rows of fabric, the female vampire retrieved a few pieces before turning back to her 'houseguest.'

"They'll be a bit too large for you, but these should do," she said, handing over the pile of clothes to Ichigo. When he didn't move to start changing into them, Yoruichi tilted her head in confusion. "Aren't you going to undress?"

"I-I can't with you staring at me!" the teenager cried, flustered that the other may have intended to watch him change his clothes. No one had seen him without any clothes on since he'd learned to dress himself.

"And you were planning on getting married?" Yoruichi covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed at the irony of it all. "You do know any husband you took wouldn't be too pleased to find out you couldn't undress in front of him?"

Ichigo's face paled dramatically he was so mortified. He knew he was acting like an elderly nun, being rattled like so just at the mention of doing something like... that.

"Couldn't you just turn around?" he said, but thought better of it. "You wouldn't peek, right?"

Any sane person would've been insulted that someone would think that of them, but Yoruichi only chuckled some more as she pointed to something behind the young vampire. Following the direction in which it was pointing, Ichigo turned the upper half of his body to see a open door he hadn't noticed before.

"You can use the powder room if you want, but don't even think about locking that door," she said, her tone switching from playful to stern and the orangette wondered if she had any children, because the warning look she was giving him was infamously maternal.

Ichigo nodded and nearly ran into the en suite, shutting the door behind him and leaning his back against it. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply for a moment, trying to gather the energy and willpower he'd need very soon.

Finally he was alone and it presented the golden opportunity he had been waiting for.

Opening his eyes to take in his surroundings, Ichigo found the bathroom was on the small side with a porcelain claw foot tub. And when his gaze landed on the window set on the wall opposite him, he had to clap a hand over his mouth so that he didn't yell triumphantly and tip off the woman on the other side of the door.

Figuring that changing clothes first would take up too much of the precious little time he had, Ichigo unceremoniously dropped the pile of fabric onto the tiled floor. Then he strode right over to the window, seeing that luck was on his side however briefly because the thing had latches to prop it open. Jittery and heart galloping in his chest, he pushed on the glass with caution and, the blessed window it was, gave way easily to tilt outwards and up.

Ichigo peered into the darkness as he propped the window to stay open, leaving an open space he would just barely be able to fit through. He could make out that the bathroom was situated on the side of the townhouse because if he reached out he'd almost be able to touch the neighboring building's brick wall. Between the two structures there was a narrow alley leading to Hokutan's main street, the unnatural light from the gas lamps spilling into the dark space.

But what Ichigo was really interested in were the metal pipes, indoor plumbing being another recent technological advance, mounted onto the wall, running the entire length of the townhouse. It was just too good to be true; the pipes weren't ideal for climbing, yes, but considering everything else, the submissive believed them heaven sent.

Taking one last deep breath and willing his frame to stop trembling with nerves, Ichigo lifted himself onto the windowsill. He looked over his shoulder one last time to confirm no one was behind him and then slid his body as close to the pipes as he could. Then came the difficult part in which the boy had to use all of his strength to only hold on with one arm as he gripped one pipe with his legs, clenching them around the cylindrical thing so that he didn't take a two story dive.

Once he had one arm and both his legs around the pipe, Ichigo screwed his eyes shut instinctively before letting go of his grip on the window sill, second arm desperately joining his other in clinging to the pipe. A few seconds of not falling to his death later, and he sighed in relief.

Shimmying down the pipe was easier than he expected, gravity doing most of the work for him. All Ichigo had to do was let his grip slacken so he slid down the pipe a few inches and then stop himself by tightening it. Not an incredibly graceful way to descend, but it worked and the orangette soon was at a height he was able to let go completely and land on his feet.

Ichigo didn't allow himself any time for celebration. There was still the matter of finding Zangetsu and acquiring a map he could use to find his way back to the manor.

He hunched over as he broke into a run towards the street, not wanting to be seen through any of the townhouse's windows and realizing Yoruichi would soon discover he was gone. Ichigo cringed to think of what his captors might do with him should they catch him running away but forced those awful thoughts out of his mind as he stepped into the street lamps' artificial light.

After debating with himself for a moment, the teenager headed right and ran down the street, praying that the stables where Zangetsu was momentarily being held weren't too far away, or heavily guarded at that. He didn't want to wind up arrested for attempting to steal his own horse.

"You, stop right there!"

Out of reflex, Ichigo stopped, panting from exertion as his eyes landed on a human man in a red uniform currently approaching him; a Watchman, he realized. He thought back to what Renji had told him about them, how they all hated vampires like himself. Though he decided that to be safe he wouldn't tell this Watchman about his being kidnapped, the orangette figured he could at least ask the human for directions to the stables. No harm in that, right?

"Uh, good evening... officer, I was just looking for the stables. If-"

"Save it, vampire. You know it's against the law to be outside past curfew." The Watchman sneered meanly down at the youth, hand hovering what Ichigo hoped wasn't a pistol.

"Curfew?" he said, wondering when the cities had ever enforced such a thing before noticing out of the corner of his eye more men in red uniforms making their way towards where he stood with the one. Six of them in total, not including the one in front of him.

"Acting innocent won't work, bloodsucker. You broke the law," the Watchman said, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a pair of handcuffs, made much thicker and bulkier in order to restrain a dominant male vampire whose strength exceeded their human criminal counterparts. "So you have to face the consequences."

Ichigo took a step backwards, gaze darting around to take in the other Watchmen getting closer and closer. It felt like they were itching for a fight, some reason to attack him. Their eager expressions gave them away. Perhaps what Renji had said about them hating vampires was indeed true; the human had even called him 'bloodsucker', an infamously derogatory term for his kind.

"I didn't know there was a curfew, you can't arrest me when I didn't know!" The submissive was angry, but he was also incredibly uneasy. Obviously he didn't want to go to jail, but there were seven of them and one of him. He was still powerless, not having yet figured out his ability. Ichigo didn't like those odds, not at all.

"If you continue to resist arrest, we'll have to use the neccessary means to subdue you," the Watchman said, clearly hoping that would turn out to be the case.

"I'm not resisting arrest," Ichigo said, resorting to try and reason with the law enforcer. "I didn't-"

"Shut up already. Can't we just get on with it, Cho?" one of the other six Watchmen said from somewhere behind him, addressing the one holding the handcuffs. Right as the latter opened his mouth to reply, no doubt in the affirmative, a deafening boom sounded throughout the street, a blazing explosion of fire consuming one of the buildings the cause.

Ichigo stared wide-eyed as the Watchmen took off towards the fire, cursing and shouting each other as they tried to figure out what had happened and what they should do. The orangette couldn't believe his luck up until hands wrapped themselves around his upper arms from behind in a bruising grip. Somehow, he instantly knew who they belonged to.

Desperately, Ichigo fought against the hold the other had on him, kicking out and thrashing in a frantic manner. He heard a few hissed curses when his heel made contact with the place he knew would cause the most amount of pain, and the hands on his arms did let go, but only so that the other's arms could wind around his torso. Ichigo struggled even harder as he was bodily carried to the mouth of the closest alley, where he was then slammed into a building's brick wall

The action would've knocked the air out of him, if he hadn't already lost his breath looking up into ocean-colored eyes cold and unforgiving as the arctic. He involuntarily shivered as Grimmjow glared down at him in a way that could have struck fear into even the bravest of men.

For several long moments, neither of them said anything, the larger of the two holding Ichigo against the wall with his broad hands on the boy's shoulders. His anger surprised the submissive, it seemed a little overly dramatic, more like the rage one would experience after learning of a loved one's murder or something equally devastating. And the emotion rolled off Grimmjow in waves, totally overwhelming.

"You're really stupid, you know that?" the dominant vampire finally said, causing Ichigo to scowl up at him. His voice was rougher than usual, but still for some reason appealing to listen to.

"I'm stupid for trying to escape from the people that kidnapped me and go home?"

Grimmjow didn't like his answer apparently, because he growled like an animal before slamming the slighter male against the wall again.

"You don't get it, do you? Once you got back there, they'd pair you off with some ugly bastard who'd control everything you do and make sure you pop out as many kids possible. You're stupid because you're rushing back to that like you can't wait."

Ichigo couldn't speak, he felt so overpowered by his blue-haired captor and how what he'd just said was undeniably true. The boy had only been thinking of Rukia, Rangiku, and Byakuya as the people waiting for him to return, but they weren't. All of those insufferable dominant males were waiting for him too, not one among them he felt comfortable conversing with let alone marrying.

"Why do you want to go back?" Grimmjow said, leaning in so that their faces were but inches apart. "Do you want to lay down for someone that badly? Can't wait for someone to get between those legs?"

The submissive's eyes widened impossibly at those last words, face turning bright red and his entire body tremble with outrage.

"You rotten bastard, get off of me!" Ichigo said, struggling again to free himself of the blunette's grip, but failing miserably as he was held in place against the wall. He snarled as Grimmjow pressed in even closer, their torsos and upper thighs now touching.

"If you want it that much, I'd be more than happy to help you out," the other male said, speaking in almost a purr, voice husky but smooth as it sent shocks of pleasure right to Ichigo's groin. Mortified, the orangette froze right as Grimmjow rocked his hips into him, their most intimate areas grinding against each other. It felt so good, better than anything Ichigo had ever felt before, ever even imagined and he had to bite his lower lip from moaning out loud.

It was so wrong of him to be enjoying this, but he couldn't help it. He felt his member react to the pleasurable sensation and attempted to move away so the other wouldn't be able to feel it, but Grimmjow had him pressed right against the wall and so he failed. The next second the blue-haired dominant chuckled darkly.

"I knew you'd like it," he said, a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"Stop it, please." Ichigo didn't recognize his own voice, it was timid and weak, so soft it was barely audible. Shame was overriding the pleasure now, and as if sensing this Grimmjow obliged and pulled away. The teenager had to lean against the wall for support, knees buckling from under him. However, not a moment later and his captor grabbed him by the wrist and started pulling him down the street.

Dozens of people were in front of the building that was still burning, and Ichigo concluded that the explosion happening right before Grimmjow had shown up was no coincidence. Perhaps it was possibly related to whatever the blunette's ability was. Whilst the submissive was dragged back to the 'Hokutan Inn' like a rag doll, he realized that in a twisted, bizarre kind of way the blunette had done him a favor by distracting those Watchmen who'd been on the verge of descending on him like a pack of wolves.

Yoruichi met them at the door, inexplicably smiling cheerfully and eyes gleaming knowingly. Ichigo expected the woman to at least yell at him if not box his ears or something along those lines, but instead she leaned in close to his face, waving one finger back and forth.

"I told you not to try and escape," she said in a sing-song tone before straightening up and facing Grimmjow. "I hope you're not thinking of tying him up now."

"That won't be neccessary," the vampire said, smirking arrogantly. "I think he's learned his lesson." Then he was gone, no doubt off to join the others to plan out more kidnappings of innocent people to be groped without their consent.

"What lesson would that be?" Yoruichi said, raising one aubergine eyebrow.

"That here or back at the manor, it doesn't matter," Ichigo said, shrugging. "Someone will always have control over me so I may as well get used to it."

The woman's grin fell as she heard the boy's words , lips pressing into a thin line.

"Of course someone will have control over you no matter where you are, that's life, Ichigo. The important thing is whether you gave that power willingly."

"Why would I do that?" Ichigo said bitterly.

"Isn't it obvious? Because you love them."

The submissive vampire didn't respond to that, thinking that the sentiment was nice but he'd never find someone to love or to love him, he couldn't afford to considering as soon as his captors got their money he'd be off to bind himself to essentially his future master.

Grimmjow had been right, he really was stupid for ever wanting to go back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Gah, I love writing for this story so much. As you can probably start to see, this fic will be of epic proportions with an actual plot and I am so excited to write it all out! Oh and I know some of you think of the movie or comic when you hear 'Watchmen' but I'm just really bad at coming up with names. ^^'
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone for the support on this convoluted story; means the world to me.


	5. Anonymous Voices

"I must say, Ichigo, my clothes look far better on you than they ever did on me."

In the few seconds since Ichigo had been introduced to Yoruichi's husband and mate he'd observed Kisuke Urahara was middle-aged with shaggy blonde hair and gray eyes and a little... odd.

After Grimmjow had brought him back to the townhouse, Ichigo had changed into the clothes Yoruichi had given to him. And he'd never looked more ridiculous in his life. They were several sizes to large and hung off of him like they would a small child dressing up in their father's clothes, but they were clean and therefore a better option than his own. Once he'd emerged from the bathroom fully dressed, Yoruichi had then led him to the parlour where his three captors were speaking with Kisuke.

As soon as they'd stepped into the room, Renji immediately fell silent, cutting whatever he'd been saying before short. Ichigo knew they had been talking about him, though he wondered what they could've possibly been discussing.

As he'd been introduced to Kisuke and taken a seat on the same sofa as the blonde vampire as far away as possible, Ichigo was sure to keep his gaze averted from the blunette in the room. He couldn't look at Grimmjow, remembering what had happened between the two of them earlier, the slow burn in those sapphire orbs, the shocked outrage he'd felt when the other had said those things to him, the sensation of-

Though he'd been sitting down, he'd felt dizzy when Kisuke commented on his borrowed clothes.

"Don' ya have anythin' smaller? He's practically swimmin' in those," Shiro said from his position reclining lazily on a chaise lounge, one leg thrown over the back as he was evidently at ease making himself comfortable in another's home. Ichigo could only imagine what the painfully proper Byakuya would've had to say.

"No, but tomorrow morning you can buy him some clothes on your way out," Yoruichi said, moving to sit between Ichigo and her husband, leaning into the latter in a way that clashed with society's image of a refined, well-mannered noblewoman. The submissive decided had it not been for the woman somewhat participating in his being held hostage, he would've rather liked her.

Ichigo realized how strange his current situation was, sitting peacefully in a parlour with the three vampires who'd kidnapped him and two of their friends who seemed to approve of the entire thing. He supposed it was better than being hog-tied and shackled in a dungeon or something along those lines.

"You'll have to get them for him, Shiro," Grimmjow said from where he was standing by the fireplace.

"Wha'! Why? I 'ave ta help Ren wit' tha horses," Shiro said, sounding upset at the other's insisting he be the one to buy the clothes.

"Because when the kid got out he had a little run-in with a few Watchmen," the blunette said, tone dripping in disapproval.

"How the hell did that happen?" Renji said, sitting straight up in his seat, tattooed brows furrowing underneath his black bandana. Shiro reacted similarly, swinging his legs off the chaise lounge to sit on the edge of it, and Ichigo could feel everyone's eyes turn to look at him.

"Ask him. I only got there right before seven of those bastards jumped him."

"Seven?" Renji cursed under his breath when Grimmjow nodded yes. Then the room was deathly silent as all of the others stared at Ichigo expectantly. Unable to look at any of them, the orangette kept his gaze on his lap, scowling as he remembered his earlier encounter.

"I wasn't doing anything wrong if that's what you're thinking. I was just walking down the street. Or, er, running actually. One of those... Watchmen yelled at me to stop, so I did and then he started telling me I was breaking the law by being out past curfew. I didn't even know there was a curfew! But he didn't believe that and was going to arrest me, and then more of them came. I think they just wanted to mess with me because I'm a vampire. They called me 'bloodsucker'..."

Ichigo's hands clenched onto the fabric of his britches. He'd only known he was a vampire for three days but he hated being called the name. It implied he, or any vampire, drank blood directly from humans like some kind of animal, which the Elders had banned centuries ago. To bite an unwilling human meant public execution.

"'a course tha's why," Shiro said through gritted teeth. "They're pathetic, gangin' up on a submissive like tha'."

"I'm not defending their actions, they've harassed our population here for far too long, but they probably have no idea what a male submissive is and to arrest a resisting dominant it usually takes six or more of them," Kisuke said. "You'd do well to keep any of them from finding out. Their hate for our kind is so strong they'd definitely see Ichigo as an easy target."

"Already figure' tha'. We almos' had Ichi cut 'is hair, but Ren-"

Shiro abruptly stopped talking as his mouth shut closed, teeth clicking together audibly. His gold and black eyes narrowed, but still he said nothing, lips pressed firmly together. Across the room, Renji cleared his throat before speaking.

"So how'd you get rid of them?" he said, addressing Grimmjow. Surprisingly, the blunette rubbed the back of his neck, looking up to the ceiling sheepishly.

"Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, did you blow up another building?" Yoruichi said, jumping up from the couch to place her hands on her hips. Her golden eyes were glittering dangerously as she glared scornfully at the vampire, whose uneasy demeanor rapidly changed to glare right back.

"What did you expect me to do? Let the kid get beaten half to death and taken to that hellhole they call a jail?" Grimmjow said defensively, throwing his hands up in the air. Ichigo heard Kisuke sigh heavily from beside him before turning his head the teenager's way.

"My wife gets rather upset when Grimm uses his ability recklessly since she was the one who taught him how to use it," Kisuke said. Ichigo muttered a soft "Oh," in response, grateful for the information.

He'd been right about Grimmjow then, the dominant's ability involved being able to cause things to explode with his mind alone. A pretty spectacular power to have, actually.

"You know you could have easily taken those weaklings!" Yoruichi strode over to the blunette, cuffing him upside the head while he stood there and took it, scowling at the ground as the woman continued to reprimand him. "If you keep blowing buildings up for fun one day you'll end up in prison or accidentally hurting someone you care about, or both. Do you want that to happen?"

Grimmjow didn't answer, only carried on glaring at the floor. After a moment, Kisuke broke the silence by asking the one question Ichigo had been dreading.

"Did anything else happen afterwards?"

The orangette's face burned a deep crimson and he looked down at his lap once more, refusing to answer and silently begging the blue-haired vampire not to say anything about their earlier... escapade.

"Just made sure he'd learned his lesson and then brought him back here," Grimmjow said and Ichigo wanted so very badly to kick the man right in his annoyingly handsome face, but figured that doing so would give him away. And for some reason while he didn't want either Yoruichi nor Kisuke to know, he would've chosen death over Shiro and Renji finding out. His stomach twisted and heart clenched just at the thought.

"I wish you'd given those bastards a good bashing instead. They need to be put in their place by someone since their Parliament doesn't do a damn thing," Renji said, mahogany eyes narrowed but not really seeing anything as it looked like he was remembering something from the past.

Ichigo's curiosity had definitely been piqued by everything he'd learned about city life only that evening. He wanted to know more, and reasoned that since his captors had treated him as pleasantly as one could expect of their kidnappers, they may be willing to tell him. There was a burning need inside of him to find out exactly how much Byakuya had kept a secret.

"Why won't they?" he said, causing all eyes to fall on him yet again. Uneasy, he squirmed in his seat not meeting anyone's gaze until Kisuke spoke.

"The humans' government, the Parliament, has been run behind the scenes for the last sixteen years by a man who despises our kind. He's poisoned all of the officials' minds and they've been spreading propaganda and passing laws so eventually all of the human population will grow to hate us as well. Surely you've heard this?" the blonde vampire said, losing most of his good-natured demeanor as he spoke.

Ichigo was shocked, to say the least. All of that had been going on and he'd never heard an inkling about it. He had grown up in Kuchiki Manor with the illusion that vampires and humans got along perfectly fine, that their respective governments, the Parliament and the Elders, worked together.

He didn't realize he'd been staring blankly into space until Yoruichi sighed, shaking her head.

"Byakuya really is a fool sometimes. I can't completely fault him; no doubt he thought he was protecting you, but to not even have told you after your Inheritance..." she said, trailing off.

"He wasn't doing it for me, he only took me in so his sister would have someone to play with and after that he tolerated me because I was the only friend she had, really. I lived with him for ten years and he still calls me by my last name. He didn't even care that I was about to be... never mind," Ichigo said, feeling stupid he was telling these people anything so personal.

"If he didn' care 'bout ya, why'd he go ta yer room righ' after Grimm blew tha stables up? An' trust me, he was not happy when he foun' out ya were gone," Shiro said and the submissive turned to him, eyes slightly wide in mild surprise. Was the man trying to comfort him? Or simply pointing out a fact?

"Not to mention I thought he was gonna kill me on the spot when I carried you back to the manor that one time," Renji said softly, grinning slightly at the memory. Ichigo was quiet for a few long moments, thinking that Byakuya must have only appeared to care for him, upset upon seeing he'd been taken because it ruined an important event he was hosting and angry with Renji for carrying the unconscious teenager merely because it was improper.

"Could I be excused? I'm really tired," he said, voice so quiet it was nearly inaudible.

"I'll take ya. Could use some shut eye too since I was up all nigh'," Shiro said, standing up from the chaise to walk over to where Ichigo was sitting. He held out one ghostly white hand but the orangette ignored it as he stood up as well, but the vampire wasn't fazed. "Wha' room shoul' I put 'im in, Yor?"

"Up the stairs, first door on the right. That one has the biggest bed," Yoruichi said and Shiro hummed in response before gesturing for Ichigo to go ahead of him, which the submissive did, heading out of the room.

"Goodnight, Ichigo," Kisuke said, calling after them, but the boy didn't return the favor. He didn't hate the man, but he wasn't about to waste his limited amount of gentility on someone participating in holding him hostage. Besides, he really was tired.

"Ha, saved tha' jackass' life an' he can' even say good nigh' ta me. Won' be doin' him any more favors then," Shiro said under his breath from where he followed Ichigo to the staircase. Despite his somber mood, the orangette found it funny that the hardened criminal would care about such a little thing and he lifted a hand to muffle his soft laughter, but the other heard it anyway.

"Think tha's funny, do ya?" Shiro stepped around Ichigo so that he stood on the first step of the staircase, towering over the smaller male with a wide grin. "Nice ta know ya can do somethin' other than scowl all tha time."

Proving the albino's point, Ichigo scowled defiantly up at Shiro and moved around the other to continue up the stairs.

"Ya know," Shiro's watery voice carried up the staircase as the male took the stairs after him. "Yer either pretty brave or just stupid ta keep provokin' tha ones who kidnapped ya."

Ichigo snarled at being called stupid the second time that night and on the last step turned on his heel to face the white-haired vampire a few steps down.

"Fine, you're right. I'm stupid," he said venomously, "But at least I have some principles and wouldn't resort to holding someone hostage in order to blackmail people into giving you every cent they had. Did you even try to make an honest living before taking the easy way out? You, Grimmjow, Renji, you're all pathetic."

Shiro moved so quickly Ichigo didn't realize the albino was closing in on him until that sinfully beautiful, white as snow face with eyes like rings of fire burning in the darkness was not an inch away from his. Ichigo's breath hitched and his mind went completely blank. When Shiro started to speak, his voice was almost a whisper but still sounded like thunder to Ichigo.

"Yer so quick ta assume ya know everythin' when frankly ya don' know a damn thing, 'bout any 'a us. So ya do yerself a favor and keep yer pretty mouth shut tha next time ya wanna give another uninformed opinion. Savvy?"

Shiro didn't give Ichigo a chance to reply before sidestepping the boy and opening the first door on the right. Not that the latter could have said anything when he'd only just remembered how to breathe.

Why in the world had Shiro reacted that way? Ichigo would've figured the vampire to be proud of his sinister, immoral ways not offended when another pointed them out.

Deciding he shouldn't even care about the reasons why, the orangette followed the other into the bedroom then and nearly cried tears of joy upon seeing the incredibly soft-looking, massive canopied bed in the middle of the space. He was so tired his whole body ached and it wasn't until the promise of rest was so close that he wholly felt it.

With Shiro's words pushed to the back of his mind, Ichigo made for the bed, collapsing face down onto the mattress and unthinkingly groaning as his tense muscles relaxed. He closed his eyes, too comfortable and exhausted to slide under the covers.

He forgot the other male was even there until he felt the mattress dip beside him, coffee brown orbs snapping open to see Shiro lying on his back not a foot away, hands behind his head of shoulder-length ivory hair and, to Ichigo's mortification, shirtless. The vampire truly looked like a marble statue of a god or some other immortal being come to life, his skin just as flawlessly white and body as perfectly chiseled.

Ichigo had long come to terms with life being unfair, but this was ridiculous. And it was a while before he could form an intelligible sentence.

"What are you doing?" he said, voice cracking to his embarrassment.

"Sleepin'," was Shiro's answer.

"You can't sleep here!" Ichigo said, sitting up and looking down at the albino who stayed where he was, expression smug.

"An' why can' I?"

"I can't sleep with you in the same... bed." The submissive's cheeks flushed, but in his defense the only time he'd been subjected to this kind of thing before was when Rangiku had rambled on shamelessly on every indecent subject in the book, and that night he'd already been in incredibly close contact with a wickedly beautiful man. He didn't think he could take much more, and yet a very small part of him longed for it.

"Don' be silly, Ichi, 's tha same as sleepin' any other time, jus' close yer eyes an' go ta sleep," Shiro said, back to his usual teasing self.

"I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you."

"All righ', then sleep on tha floor." Shiro's grin widened exponentially, sharp canines making him appear utterly predator. "But I'd much rather ya spend tha nigh' in bed wit' me."

"Not in a million years would that ever happen. Ever. I'm not that desperate," Ichigo said, overcoming his embarrassment to spit the words out banefully but to his chagrin, Shiro merely chuckled patronizingly.

"Ya jus' keep on believin' that, Ichi."

The orangette huffed indignantly before grabbing one of the pillows and sliding down from the bed onto the hardwood floor. Mentally cursing the albino to hell and back, and back again, he lay on his side facing the other way and forcing his body to relax despite his frustration and how uncomfortable the wooden floor was.

Luckily, he was so tired that it wasn't long at all before sleep claimed him.

The marketplace was loud, dirty, and crowded with its vampiric residents as merchants and customers alike bargained, haggled, and bartered. It was apparent the district in which it was located was one of the poorest, many people wearing tattered garments on their malnourished frames. Some of them had a haunted look in their eyes, weary of living the way they did. Others constantly pursed their lips and furrowed their brows to glare at everyone around them, completely embittered. A pleasant face was definitely rare in this destitute place.

There was a baker selling day old loaves of bread to the people desperate enough to buy them for their children that hadn't reached yet their Inheritance. The man, a human and clearly an outsider from his fine clothes and round gut, didn't seem bothered by the fact he was taking advantage of unfortunate parents trying to feed their children any way they could. In fact, he was counting the paper money he'd already collected when three small blurs passed by his stand that afterwards was missing that exact number of loaves of bread.

"Hey!" the baker said, running after the thieves who turned out to be three boys around seven or eight years old. "Get back here! Thieves!"

The human tried to catch up to the boys, but they were quite fast despite their age and he was out of shape, obviously having test-tasted his baked goods a few too many times. As the child thieves darted in between stands and people at a rapid pace that suggested they'd done this before, the baker had to stop and try to catch his wheezing breath, allowing the boys to only have to continue sprinting for a few more minutes.

They stopped once safely in an empty alleyway, panting from running so quickly and clutching their respective loaves to their small chests.

What immediately stood out about these boys was they each had a remarkably colorful head of hair. One turquoise blue, one snowy white, and one scarlet red. They were also practically wearing rags and appeared underweight. However, they also wore bright, triumphant smiles and didn't say a word before tearing into the bread. It was surprising they didn't choke with how hastily they devoured their stolen meal.

None of the boys said anything until the loaves were completely gone and they all simultaneously sat down to rest against the wall, evidently satiated though they wore matching scowls before speaking at the same time.

"I hate that baker."

As expected of boys their age, this immediately started an argument.

"I hate him more!"

"No, I do!"

"I hate 'im tha most, he called me a freak yesterday!" the boy with white hair said, jumping to his feet.

"So? You are one with those weird eyes." The blue-haired one said, both he and the redhead standing too.

"Hey, you're the one with blue hair!" The boy with red hair pointed a finger in the blunette's face.

"An' yer hair looks like a big, red pineapple." It was the one with white hair who'd spoken, and he was now snickering as the boy he'd insulted turned bright red before tackling him to the ground. They wrestled for a few seconds before the blue-haired boy dived into the fray with a war cry, not intending to stop the fight but rather get in on the action.

The children punched and kicked each other in their three-way fight for a minute or two before, as only children could, they all froze, each holding another in a kind of headlock, and started laughing. Any witness would've been baffled as to what was so amusing, but the boys had a good, long laugh over whatever it was.

Eventually they calmed and sat back down, drawing their legs up to rest their chins on their knees.

"You're not a freak, just saying," the blue-haired boy said, not looking at the one he was speaking to but at the ground.

"Yea' I am, e'eryone says it. My mom couldn' even look a' me. Tha's why she left me a' tha... orphanage."

All three boys shuddered at the mention of that wretched place.

"Don't be stupid, I wouldn't be friends with a freak."

"Yeah, me neither," the redhead said.

They were quiet for a long while, until the clouds overhead darkened and let rain pour down over the city. Cursing with words no child should know, the boys stood up and ran out into the street, getting soaked within seconds as they sought out a place to shelter them from the rain. They found one rather quickly, though it was taking a bit of risk as it was someone's covered porch, the house to which it was attached a small but with an inviting air about it.

Shivering as they stood there it was only a minute passed before the door behind them swung open, the boys too startled to make a run for it as they whirled around and stared wide-eyed at the man who'd discovered them.

"Now what are you strapping young lads doing on my porch?" he said in a boisterous, cheerful manner.

The man on the porch was tall and fairly muscular, perhaps in his late twenties, with short, spiky dark hair and scruffy five o'clock shadow. He was also grinning broadly, sharp incisors a dead give-away.

All three boys were so taken aback that someone was greeting them, bedraggled, thieving street rats, so warmly they just continued to stare up at the vampire with wide eyes of burgundy, ultramarine, and gold and black.

"Oh I see, you're all the strong but silent type. How manly!" the man said, puffing out his chest. "Well masculine gentlemen like yourselves shouldn't stand outside during this storm." When he turned sideways in the doorway to gesture for them to come in, the boys all looked to each other in disbelief. "You boys showed up at the perfect time, my beautiful wife just baked cookies but we didn't have anyone to eat them."

"Why would you bake them, then?" the red-haired boy said, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"She wants to practice baking them for when our precious baby is born, but if you don't want them then..."

The smell of cookies that undoubtedly tasted far better than day old bread wafted out to the three boys then and they didn't even think twice before rushing to go inside all at once, disappearing into the warm glow of the house before the door shut behind them.

The image of the quaint house warped and twisted than faded into blackness. Then there were only the sounds of a woman screaming and manic laughter. And then came a vision of fangs ripping into flesh, pulling away dripping in blood. More screams. A small graveyard with the statue of an angel. Rain. Two men with dark hair and blurred faces. Screaming. Blackness. Nothing.

Ichigo's eyes shot open with a gasp for air like that of a drowning man being pulled out of the water.

For about a minute, he was so disoriented he struggled with whoever's hands were holding his wrists, kicking and thrashing about to get away from the person restraining him. But they held fast and were saying something but Ichigo couldn't decipher what it was. Everything sounded faint and far away as he took fast, shallow breaths feeling like he couldn't get his lungs to function properly.

His dream had been fine up until the house had disappeared and those horrific images and sounds had taken its place. They hadn't made any sense, flickering through in an order with no rhyme or reason. And those visions had disturbed him deeply, much more than even the worst of nightmares should have.

Ichigo went limp, eyes still unseeing and breathing still uneven and panicked. He fell into the person who'd been restraining him, still not really understanding what was going on as the other wrapped one arm around him and cradled his face with a hand, the fingertips pressing gently onto his temple.

"Shh, you're all right," was all the orangette was able to hear before a feeling of calm serenity overtook his entire body, relief making his eyelids flutter closed and breathing slow and even out. He didn't remember ever being so at peace in his entire life.

Then he realized that he was currently in someone else's arms, head resting on their shoulder and dreading what he might see, opened his eyes yet again. When he immediately found himself staring up into the divine face of none other than the most pallid of his captors, Ichigo leapt away with a yelp.

"What are you doing!" he said, backing away from Shiro to the very edge of the bed. How did he get up to the bed when he'd been sleeping on the floor?

"Wha' does it look like I was doin'?" Shiro said. "Ya were havin' a panic attack so I used my power ta calm ya down. Yer welcome, by tha way."

"Power?" Ichigo couldn't help but pick that part out of the other's words.

"Yea', didn' ya realize I was an empath yesterday?" The white-haired male arched a pale eyebrow while the orangette thought back to when he'd thought Zangetsu dead and the anger he'd felt had suddenly been sucked out of him.

"Well stop using it on me," Ichigo said, though he didn't believe Shiro would listen to him.

"Yea' yea', now get up, I gotta get yer clothes and ya need ta go see Yor'."

"Why?"

"'cause wha'ever made ya scared like tha' wasn't jus' any ol' nightmare," Shiro said, getting up off the bed to where his shirt and overcoat were laying on the headboard. Feeling like he should for propriety's sake, Ichigo looked the other way while the man put them on.

"I wasn't scared, just so you know. I was... startled."

"'s so cute how ya deny everythin'."

Just when Ichigo was about to deny that he denied everything as they walked down the stairs, he paused mid-step, suddenly remembering the entirety of his dream.

Those little boys, they couldn't have been... could they?

At Shiro's questioning glance up to where he was still frozen, Ichigo pushed the image of those boys with blue, red, and white hair out of his mind. He hoped the past two night's strange dreams were only temporary, perhaps due to the stress of being held hostage.

Yoruichi was waiting for them in the parlour and Ichigo was surprised to see she was dressed in men's clothing, britches and everything. He didn't think he'd ever seen a woman wear anything other than a skirt or dress before, but couldn't see what the big deal was; they covered even more skin than a ballgown would.

Also in the parlour with her were Kisuke and Grimmjow, both standing. Noticeably, the former held a cane in his left hand, leaning on it heavily and Ichigo wondered what had happened to the man's leg, but figured he'd never know since he would never ask.

"Ah, good to see you made the night in one piece, Ichigo," Yoruichi said as they walked into the room. "One can never be sure with Shiro in the same room."

"'ey, I take offense ta tha'!" The white-haired vampire crossed his arms over his chest and came extremely close to pouting before nodding his head towards the orangette beside him. "Ya've gotta a new student, Yor'."

Yoruichi immediately smiled brightly, eagerness shining in her eyes.

"You don't know what your ability is yet?" she said, addressing Ichigo who shook his head, though he had an idea of what it could possibly be. "Do you want to?"

"Yes," he said. He'd thought that would be fairly obvious. Why wouldn't he want to know?

"Wait, we're heading out within the hour. Is that going to be enough time?" Renji said.

"I'll have to speed up the process a bit, but I should be able to at least get him to where he can access his power," Yoruichi said, to which Renji and Grimmjow looked to each other and nodded once.

"Now, how am I suppose' ta get clothes fer tha kid?" Shiro said to the two as they all walked out of the palour to complete their respective tasks. "Don' ya need measurements er somethin'? An' how er they gonna make 'em so fast? An' where tha hell do I go, anyway?"

"Idiot, they have stores that sell clothes already made now. Go to one of them," Grimmjow said before they disappeared around the corner.

It hit Ichigo then how odd it was that his kidnappers were buying him clothes. And why were they allowing him to learn about his ability when it could potentially be used against them? And why had Shiro apparently moved him from the floor to the bed while he was sleeping? And why-

"Come sit down, Ichigo," Yoruichi said, breaking through his racing thoughts. The submissive vampire obeyed, sitting down on the couch next to the woman and turning to face her. "Before we begin, I should tell you about my ability, since I use it in order to help you gain control over your own."

When Ichigo nodded, both excitement and nervousness rising up within him. He was eager to learn what mental ability he possessed but was just the slightest bit uneasy considering the content of the dreams he'd been having. From his peripheral vision he could see Kisuke stiffly walk to an armchair and sit down, clearly intending to stay and watch, which the orangette supposed was all right.

"Basically I'm a telepath, I can read minds. But I can only access the subconscious, the thoughts and information in your mind you don't know are there and I have the ability to bring them into the conscious part. Understand so far?"

"I think so." Ichigo was relieved to hear the woman couldn't read his every thought, that would've been mortifying.

"Good. Now, every vampire is born with an ability and they acquire use of it when they reach their Inheritance. Some know and can control them right away, they're usually the ones with less powerful abilities, but some of us have a hard time accessing it, like you. However, you already know what your power is and how to use it, you were born knowing, the knowledge is just locked away in your subconscious."

"And you can use your power to move it to the conscious part?"

"Exactly," Yoruichi said, grinning. "Though I will warn you, sometimes a person can't ever fully control their ability."

"Why not?" Ichigo frowned, hoping that wouldn't be the case with him.

"Different reasons, but for the most part they are too emotionally or mentally unstable to handle their power. So, are you ready to begin?" Yoruichi scooted forward on the couch so that their knees were touching.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Ichigo said softly.

"All right, now close your eyes," she said and the teenager did so. "If you can, try and think of absolutely nothing at all. It's going to feel a bit uncomfortable while I bring the information out of your subconscious but just try to bear with it."

A few silent moments passed before Ichigo started to feel a pressure inside of his head, almost like a headache but instead of being in one specific spot it was everywhere. It didn't feel good, but it wasn't exactly painful either.

Minutes passed by and he tried to keep his mind blank but he kept wondering if it was supposed to take this long and wishing it would end soon as the pressure in his head steadily increased to where it was now aching. He was just on the verge of asking how much longer it would take when he heard Yoruichi gasp and the pressure suddenly disappear. Blinking his eyes open, he saw the woman looking exhausted and parted his lips to ask what she'd found before he thought about what his ability could be and then automatically knew.

"So, what is it? Come on, tell me, I'm dying to know," Kisuke said, leaning forward in his seat eagerly.

"I'm a Seer," Ichigo said monotonously, still not believing it himself.

"Oh I see, precognition. Very nice," the blonde said, but Yoruichi was quick to correct him.

"He can see more than just the future, Kisuke," she said, unusually serious. "Ichigo can also have visions of the past and the present. I've never heard anything like it except for..."

"Yes, except for that one," Kisuke said cryptically, looking as if deep in thought.

"Someone else had the same ability?" Ichigo said, wondering why the other two were reacting so dramatically to his power. Surely it wasn't as impressive as one with say the ability to blow up entire buildings with just a thought? Or any of the other powers out there?

"Yes, someone else had the same ability, but she passed away almost sixteen years ago." Kisuke's gray eyes clouded over with some kind of lingering grief; obviously he'd personally known the one he spoke of. Ichigo didn't know what to say so he remained silent until Yoruichi said his name and he looked to her still sober expression.

"You need to know having this ability is more of a curse than a blessing," she said sadly. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, but if word gets out you have the power to see the past, present, and future, vampires and humans alike will stop at nothing to use you for their own selfish purposes. Think about it, you have the ability to see all, know all. What power or money-hungry bastard wouldn't want you to tell them what would happen if they invested in this or look into their enemies' pasts to dig up blackmail material?"

Ichigo visibly deflated, the reality of what his power meant hitting him hard. It hadn't been enough he'd been born a submissive male so dominant vampires everywhere wanted him to bear their children. Now he also had to have an ability that made him a target to the greedy and corrupt, which was basically almost the entire world.

"But that doesn't you shouldn't learn to control it. Your visions will only show up at random. Am I correct that the past three nights you've had strange, vivid dreams about things you've never seen before?" Kisuke said.

"Only the last two nights."

Ichigo concluded then that the dream he'd had the night before had indeed been a vision of the past, when Grimmjow, Shiro, and Renji had been children. They'd been orphans just like him, except no rich aristocrat had taken them in. Had they spent their entire childhood living on the streets, resorting to stealing whatever they could in order to survive?

Though the boy had never thought it possible, his heart ached for those three little boys huddling under a stranger's porch as it poured rain. How had they turned into hardened criminals who held people for ransom?

The dream in which he'd been in the cemetery Ichigo knew was a glimpse into the future and it frightened him. Who had been buried in that churchyard? Whose voice had called out to him? And the question that bothered him the most; exactly whose child had he been carrying?

But these were all questions he couldn't know the answers to. Or at least, not yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A quick update this time! And you found out Ichigo, Grimmjow, and Shiro's powers, so all that's left is Renji though I left you a clue in this chapter. I really just want this story to get going and I hope you guys like how the plot is developing. As you can see, it's a big one, but that just means the story will be nice and long. And yes, I promise there will be smut in the future and no one will feel left out if you know what I mean. :3
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed. And thank you, thank you to those of you that reviewed, you guys give me so much motivation~


	6. Disenchanted Whispers

The summer night air traced his skin like a balmy whisper, up his spine and around his neck, fluttering over half-closed eyes. It was dark and dim, a hazy amber glow all around him, like the inside of a paper lantern. An invisible fire smoldered somewhere inside of his chest, all heat and pulse. It crawled through his veins, coursed through his entire being and centered in between his thighs, a delicious, sweetly agonizing ache.

Lips on the hollow of his throat, shoulder blades, ribcage. An involuntary arching of his back. Broad hands with calloused thumbs on his cheekbones, strong, gentle fingers threading through his honey and tangerine blossom hair. Plush, soft flesh plundering his mouth. Sunshine bronze and ivory snow canvases. Bodies, three of them. Perfection.

Six sharp points sank into him, breaking skin together. Something once locked away was set free, a butterfly or dove out of a cage. A golden, angelic spectre shot through his blood, a heavenly electricity.

His eyes snapped fully open. Dazzling halos of porcelain, carmine, and turquoise glittered above him, their owners shadows. Three velvet voices spoke, their words weaving an enchanted, purring melody.

"You're ours, Ichigo."

Then it all melted away like candle wax. The warmth left, summer to winter. Emptiness swallowed the firelight and bliss. He shivered, bare to a bitter draft, and reached out, too afraid to utter a sound.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, jerking him forward. Out of the black appeared a face masked with blank whiteness. A great, gaping maw with blood drenched dagger teeth and a salivating, red tongue were inches away. In the void between lay its breath, laced with the foul stench of rot and decay.

"Ichigo."

Its voice was of two opposites. A hissing snake politician sneer and a preying monster growl intertwined. The words dripped with bottomless pit manic hunger. It laughed, the sound of a death rattle. It was mocking him.

"You're ours, Ichigo."

...

Ichigo's head snapped up, eyes flying wide open and heart racing fast and hard like galloping horse hooves. He laid a calming hand over his chest, willing the muscle to stop beating his ribcage like a drum. Fortunately, his strange behavior went unnoticed by the three males in his presence.

What in the hell had that been?

Well, of course he knew what it was, a vision. It had followed the now familiar pattern of playing out like a memory and then warping into surreal, nightmarish images. But this one was still different, as he hadn't been lost to a deep sleep. He had only closed his eyes for a few seconds at the most before his consciousness had been stolen from him. Though, from what Yoruichi had mentioned to him that morning, Ichigo guessed he shouldn't be surprised.

Until he learned how to fully control his ability, the visions would plague him any time his mind's defenses were weakened. This included fatigue, mental and physical, and right now Ichigo was both.

After his three captors had returned from the stables and the city's only tailor shop open at dawn, Ichigo had changed into a less conspicuous outfit befitting a male vampire of lower nobility and their party had departed from Hokutan to make the several hours long journey to the next city. But not before Yoruichi had done something rather... odd.

Just as Ichigo had mounted Zangetsu, the female vampire had barreled out of her townhouse, or 'Hokutan Inn' rather, and straight up to him. She'd held out something that glittered in the early light of daybreak and placed it into his palm before closing his fingers around it.

"This may bring you some luck," she'd said and then was gone.

Around Ichigo's neck now lay a long, thin silver chain to which a pendant in the shape of the sun carved from moonstone was attached. Though he'd never been fond of jewelry and most likely never would be, the orangette found the piece striking and figured there was no harm in holding on to it, despite its giver being a co-conspirator in his kidnapping. Yoruichi probably just sympathized with him and had tried to placate her conscience; she had certainly seemed to like him well enough the hour they'd spent together discussing his new ability as a Seer.

However, it appeared the charm didn't bring any good luck to its wearer. Ichigo had been traveling on horseback for the entire day, the hour so late the sun had already disappeared over the horizon. Combined with the night before's uneasy sleep, he was exhausted. His luxurious, cushy lifestyle at Kuchiki Manor hadn't prepared him well for the world outside of countryside noble society, that much was blatantly obvious. He now wished he would've pleaded more with Byakuya to be allowed to set the books aside for a while and run around outside.

As if the lucky pendant had decided to suddenly start working its magic, a short whistle halted all four horses. Ichigo's gaze lifted from Zangetsu's mane to stare at the broad shoulders tipped with scarlet red hair a few feet in front of him.

"Goddamnit, Renji, we're almost there," Grimmjow said from his place on Ichigo's left. A quick glance confirmed his customary displeased frown creasing his brow.

"I know that," Renji snapped irritably. "But look to the west, right between the valley peaks."

Ichigo followed the direction in which the redhead pointed with a gloved hand and with his enhanced vision was able to make out in the distance the outline of a tall tower made of stone. At the top the gray blocks had been carved out except for support beams in the four corners, leaving the entire space open. In the middle a massive ray of light beamed from an industrial version of the relatively new gas street lamps, illuminating everything in the surrounding woods for hundreds of yards.

"My, those human's mus' be so proud 'a themselves," Shiro said, snorting. "They can' possibly think they're gonna catch any rogue vamps with tha' oversize' candle."

"They believe all that new technology will be their salvation from our kind, progress is their new religion and vampires are old world demons they need to exorcise to move into the future," Grimmjow said.

"Humans are silly creatures, aren' they?" Shiro sighed. "Steel always melts in tha fire."

"They're just too easily hypnotized by their Parliament's propaganda," Renji said, turning to look over his shoulder at the rest of their group. "And their 'we are watching you' message is growing old." The albino and blunette both grunted in agreement, stares still locked onto the watchtower to the west.

Ichigo was lost once again. It had only been the day prior he'd discovered that human and vampire relations were strained, there were human law enforcers called Watchmen who apparently all had a great distaste for vampires, and the Parliament was controlled by a single power-hungry bigot. However, he concluded it was best to stay silent on the matter and not ask his many burning questions.

"All righ' Big Red, ya stay 'ere with Ichi. Grimmy and I'll be back 'fore half an hour's up, so be ready then," Shiro said, spurring his horse into a gallop before Renji could respond, Grimmjow hot on the white-haired vampire's heels.

There was only a moment of tense silence before Zangetsu neighed and stomped the ground impatiently, irritated at being made to stay still for so long. Patting the horse's neck in an assuring gesture, Ichigo looked over to his remaining captor, who was in the process of dismounting.

"Here, put that on," Renji said, tossing a small item over his shoulder that Ichigo caught with one hand. It was the newsboy cap he'd worn the day before, the one specifically meant to hide his head of bright orange hair. Scowling at the piece of dark fabric he turned in the other's direction only to see the redhead's towering frame disappearing into the dense thicket of trees parallel to the trail, his mount tethered to a slender birch's trunk.

Ichigo's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and he almost called out Renji's name, voice catching in his throat as he thought better of it. He didn't care why the dominant vampire had wandered off, leaving him, the hostage, completely alone. There wasn't even time to wonder why. This was a golden opportunity, and he was going to take it.

Adrenaline rushing through his system and thoughts racing a mile a minute, Ichigo nearly fell off of Zangetsu in his haste to dismount. He took the reins, leading the stallion cautiously over to the other horse. Zangetsu was quiet as a mouse, somehow understanding the need for silence so they wouldn't be discovered, but still the orangette kept a calming hand on the animal's jet black nose.

Ichigo stilled a foot away from Renji's mount and peered into the twilight woods. His vampire enhanced vision would enable him to discern the absent redhead's body from tree trunks and branches even in the darkness of dusk but there was no sight of the male vampire.

Now, of course Ichigo would be a complete idiot if he didn't consider the event of being left to his own devices nearby one of the biggest cities in all of Rukongai too good to be true. However... he couldn't live with himself if he sat idly by when there had been even the slightest possibility of freedom. So taking one deep breath he set about unfastening the supply satchel from the other horse. He mentally cursed as he fumbled with the buckles, hands shaking with fervency.

But a few seconds later and it was free. Ichigo knew from observation that this satchel held one or two canteens filled with blood and another with water for the horses and Renji's spare revolver. That should be enough for him to get by on his own for a while. It would have to be.

The orangette's eyes scanned the surrounding area once more. He expected to see Renji storming his way back, or Grimmjow and Shiro, but he didn't. A small burst of triumph flickered in the pit of his stomach and Ichigo whipped around to jump into Zangetsu's saddle, energized by his unbelievably good fortune.

Perhaps the pendant Yoruichi had given him really did work.

To the teenage vampire, what happened next was a testament that Ichigo Kurosaki and good luck did not mix.

He had barely taken a step forward when he was jerked backwards, a sharp, stinging pain at the base of his skull immediately following. Hissing in discomfort, Ichigo instinctively clasped his free hand to where his scalp throbbed. He tried to turn around to investigate but the sore stinging increased tenfold, so he settled for craning his neck to see what the problem was. Upon seeing his latest misfortune it was apparent to Ichigo that whenever he thought things couldn't get any worse, he was always proven wrong.

"You have got to be kidding me."

The youth would have shaken his head in disbelief if several locks of his tangerine hair hadn't been entangled intricately in the birch tree's low-lying branches.

How had that even happened?

Ichigo huffed, frustration overwhelming him, and Zangetsu whinnied softly in commiseration. He tried to pull away in one swift motion but the orange strands were thoroughly knotted onto the branches and the action only resulted in more smarting pain that made his eyes water. Swearing a black oath under his breath, he reached up to feel where his hair had caught onto the nearest branch and tried to disentangle the strands. However that was a task easier said than done when he could barely see his current vexation.

"What are you doing?"

Ichigo jumped, gasping as his hair was pulled yet again. Turning narrowed eyes onto the one who'd spoken, he was not surprised to see that it was Renji but rather that the dominant vampire had changed his clothes. The redhead was no longer wearing his plain black linen shirt, britches, traveling cloak, and riding boots. Instead, he was dressed in a nobleman's outfit consisting of a white collared shirt, burgundy waistcoat with velvet trim with finely tailored britches to match, and expensive leather boots. He was also holding an ebony overcoat over one arm and an evening top hat in his right hand.

But the most noticeable difference was that the male's dark cherry hair wasn't pulled back under his usual bandana. Instead those long locks of scarlet red draped over Renji's shoulders and it turned out Ichigo had been right all along; he looked to die for with his hair down.

"Nothing," Ichigo said, discreetly hiding the satchel in his hand behind his back.

Renji lifted one tattooed eyebrow, an amused smirk stretching his mouth to one side. He then crossed the few yards between them, stilling a hand's breadth away from the orangette. His burgundy gaze swept over Ichigo's head to where those nectarine strands of hair were knotted onto the tree branches, lips falling into a slight frown.

"I'm not even going to ask how you managed to do this," Renji said, sighing. Then he set his overcoat and hat on his horse's saddle before reaching with both hands for the tangled mess of the other's hair and branches. Ichigo instinctively backed away, not wanting the redhead to try and pull his hair free as he had found out that only served in bringing him more pain.

"Can't you just cut it free with a knife or something?" he asked, causing Renji's frown to deepen.

"I got it. Just hold still," the redhead said, again bringing his hands over Ichigo's head to gently disentangle the orange locks, the latter barely breathing as he braced himself for the agonizing stinging and averted his eyes in obvious discomfort at their proximity. He hadn't forgotten what a certain blue-haired vampire had done when close after 'helping' him, the mere memory of it still made his face flush furiously.

However, after several silent seconds, Ichigo had felt no pain and wondering if perhaps Renji had seen the futility in the situation, he looked up to where the other's face was right above his own, eyes fixated straight ahead in concentration. The teenager's mind inexplicably went blank and his knees weakened, nearly buckling underneath him.

"There."

Renji's voice spurred Ichigo back into reality and the submissive blinked as the former took several steps backward. Confused, he felt the back of his head with the hand that wasn't holding the stolen satchel out of sight and his eyes widened in surprise as he found that all of the tangled pieces of hair had been liberated of those awful branches. How in the world Renji had done so he didn't know, considering he hadn't experienced even the slightest bit of pain.

"Thank you," he said quietly, mentally questioning why he bothered thanking someone who'd deceived him and was now holding him for ransom.

"You're welcome. Now, could you give me back my satchel?" Renji said, holding out a hand with the palm facing upwards. Ichigo immediately scowled, contemplating whether he should take the risk of grabbing the revolver out of said satchel. The odds wouldn't be too terribly stacked against him, considering it was just the redhead he would be up against.

But for some reason, he couldn't imagine actually shooting the other. Not to mention, he had no idea how to use a handgun in the first place.

Ichigo handed the cursed thing out in a sharp, jerky motion, glaring at the ground as he did so. Honestly, had Renji expected him to sit around and play the part of the perfect, helpless hostage when he'd been given an opportunity like that?

The dominant vampire took the satchel in one swift sweep of his hand, instantly going to reattach it to his mount's saddle. Ichigo folded his arms over his chest and walked over to Zangetsu, absentmindedly wishing he could ask the horse to kick Renji in the head for him. He hadn't even put his foot in the stirrup when the other male's deep voice spoke, freezing him to the spot.

"I don't understand why you want to go back so badly," Renji spat harshly making Ichigo whirl around, somewhat startled in his captor's change in temperament. The other was leaning against a tree, arms crossed and a surely heated scowl directed to the ground in front of him. "You'll just be mated to some old, rich bastard who couldn't care less about you. Hell, I don't understand why you're not glad to be away from there. At least we don't make you lay down for us." The redhead snorted and shook his head, beautifully red strands of hair swaying slightly with the action.

Ichigo was having trouble coming up with a response to that. How strange it was that the very night before Grimmjow had said almost exactly the same thing and that he hadn't realized he'd had an epiphany until that very moment.

"I don't want to go back," he whispered. Renji lifted his head, mahogany eyes regarding the youth with a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and something else, something like firelight embers, warm and beckoning.

"Then why-"

"I said I don't want to return to the manor. That doesn't mean I want to remain with the people who kidnapped me and will soon pawn me off to the highest bidder like an object," Ichigo said, answering Renji's question before the other could speak it. There was no sane reason for why he bothered explaining himself, the words had spilled from his lips on pure impulse.

"So where did you plan on going, then?" Renji said, pushing off of the tree he leaned against and taking several strides closer to his captive. "A little noble like you? You wouldn't last two seconds on your own."

"Don't underestimate me," Ichigo snapped, thoroughly irritated at the blatant dismissal. Okay, perhaps he had no experience fending for himself or much knowledge of the ways of the world outside of the countryside's vampiric noble society, but he was a quick learner. He could survive on his own if it meant being completely free for the first time in his life.

Renji frowned deeply down at him for a moment or two, fathomless russet eyes contemplative.

"Just do yourself a favor and take my word that the best place for you is with us," he said and before Ichigo could say anything in response, he turned on his heel, walking away stiffly. The orangette was still, bewildered by Renji's statement, and barely noticed Zangetsu nudging his shoulder, unthinkingly patting the animal's nose.

He hadn't had much chance to think on the redhead's puzzling words when he heard the familiar crunching noise of carriage wheels on a dirt trail. Automatically, he peeked around Zangetsu's broad neck to where the sound seemed to be coming from. As he'd expected, he did catch sight of a dark, fine carriage being pulled by two horses barrelling straight towards him. However, what he didn't expect to see was a certain porcelain-haired vampire standing on the side foot rail, holding onto the roof's ledge with one hand, and a certain turquoise-haired vampire reclining up front by the driver, hands behind his head and feet propped up on the short barrier in front of him.

It appeared the things Ichigo's three captors did got stranger by the second.

The horse-drawn carriage screeched to a halt with a snap of the reins by the driver, who at first glance was clearly one of their own by the pointed incisors protruding from the part in his lips. He looked like a human in their early twenties with shaggy dark brown hair, the rest of his features overwhelmed by the tattooed marks on his face, a gray band across his left cheekbone and the bridge of his nose and directly underneath the number sixty nine.

Ichigo wondered why it was that before he'd seen Renji that day at the stables he had never seen nor heard of anyone tattooing their face, though inking other parts of the body were rare on their own. He figured it was just another thing he'd been in the dark about in his sheltered life.

"Like the new ride, Ichi?" Shiro said, jumping off his perch on the carriage with ease. The teenager surveyed the albino, noting the only thing he'd worn before that he hadn't rid himself of was his dazzling, eager grin. Like Renji, he'd changed out of his simple traveling clothes into finery any nobleman would be proud to wear, except he donned his own ebony overcoat and had forgone a hat in favor of tying back his shoulder-blade length ivory hair at the nape of his neck. Also, under the dark layer of fabric his waistcoat was made of a royal purple damask striped fabric and from his outer lapel dangled a silver pocket watch.

Now there was obviously some reason, a very important one, for the change of clothes and the acquirement of the carriage but Ichigo couldn't come up with a single one that made sense.

"Stop chitchatting," Grimmjow's voice came from his relaxed position on the driver's seat. "Time's a ticking."

"I don't see you trying to help speed things up any," Renji said scornfully, leading his horse over to the carriage.

"I got this damn carriage, I already did my share," Grimmjow scoffed, not even looking the other's way before waving a hand dismissively. The redhead muttered something undoubtedly foul under his breath but apparently decided against pressing the issue with his stubborn companion.

Ichigo hadn't even realized the carriage driver had left his seat and approached him with several long strides, so when the tattooed brunette seemed to suddenly appear out of nowhere inches away from him, he jumped nearly a foot in the air. The driver was unfazed, expression apathetic as he held out one leather gloved hand.

"The reins," he said, his deep tenor voice eerily even.

The orangette clutched Zangetsu's reins tighter in his grip, narrowing his gaze at the newcomer. Come hell or high water, he would never willingly entrust a stranger with his beloved horse, one of the very few that genuinely cared about him and he did so in return. Not to mention this was a stranger cooperating with those who'd kidnapped him.

"Shuu's jus' gonna hitch 'im to the coach wit' the others," Shiro said, walking over to lay a pale hand on the youth's shoulder as if they were intimately acquainted. "So no need ta worry yer pretty little head."

Ichigo jerked away from the other's touch, unnerved by the way a shiver had run up at his spine upon contact.

"He hasn't been trained to pull a carriage," he said, addressing the driver. Surely anyone would know that seeing Zangetsu was a thoroughbred stallion, a creature too valuable to be used for menial labor like being a carriage horse.

"I'll place him in the back row. He'll get the hang of it quickly following the lead horses," the driver said, again reaching out, palm facing up, and with unease clear in his motions, Ichigo reluctantly let Zangetsu's reins fall into the vampire's hand. The jet black stallion whinnied indignantly, tugging away from the grip the unwelcome holder had on those leather straps. Not a surprising reaction, considering Zangetsu had only let himself be handled by Ichigo. And Renji on those occasions the redhead had delivered him out of harm's way.

The orangette shushed the horse, aware of puzzled stares on him when Zangetsu appeared to understand him and snorted like a bull before stilling and allowing the tattooed driver to lead him to where the three other mounts were waiting obediently.

"Damn, ya migh' be worse than Grimm is wit' Pantera," Shiro said, chuckling. It was a few seconds until Ichigo recalled that Pantera was the white Arabian mare with piercing blue eyes to match her owner's. "He terrorized tha last stable 'cause they didn't put tha righ' kind of hay in 'er in stall, said the kind they had in there gave 'er indigestion."

At the mental picture of the blue-haired vampire tearing up a stable for that very reason, Ichigo couldn't stop the soft chuckle caused by the ridiculous image and tried to muffle it with one hand, turning his head away from the albino.

"Something funny?"

The sudden sound of Grimmjow's gravelly voice cut the teenager's laughter short but it only served to make Shiro let loose loud barks of amusement.

"Hilarious, actually," the white-haired male said between peals of laughter.

Grimmjow opened his mouth to say something in response when Renji called out to them, half leaning out of the open carriage door.

"Oy, get a move on, already!" he said, then disappeared inside, leaving the door ajar. Ichigo's eyes darted over to the front of the coach, seeing the four horses lined up as the cloaked driver stood in front of them. He nearly gasped when the male waved a hand nonchalantly and immediately afterwards the metal buckles on the harnesses fastened themselves one after the other. He'd never seen telekinesis up close before, it was far from common. Though he'd certainly had his fill of uncommon powers in the past two days to last him a lifetime.

Shiro wasted no time tramping over to the carriage, bounding through the entryway. After his high contrast form had vanished into the compartment it dawned on Ichigo that he was practically alone with Grimmjow and it was all too easy to remember what had happened the last time they'd lacked the company of others. Nervousness bubbling inside of his chest, the submissive made to follow in the albino's steps but was forcibly stopped by a tug on his wrist.

Ichigo partially turned to apprehensively regard the broad hand wrapped around his wrist and the blue-eyed vampire to which it belonged, said eyes a dazzling azure composite of more different shades of blue than he'd thought existed as they bored into him.

"Look, I just..." Grimmjow started but trailed off, apparently unable to find the words he wished to say and blatantly ill at ease, as close to nervous as a prideful, confident creature like him would ever get. It made Ichigo quirk one tangerine eyebrow. "About what happened last night, I... I'm... sorry."

The apology was forced from his fanged mouth as if the vampire's entire rejected the concept of apologizing and admitting he'd been in the wrong. Ichigo was unimpressed, to say the least. Was he supposed to accept the apology of someone who'd thoroughly groped and molested him let alone holding him hostage? Grimmjow must have recently taken a serious blow to the head.

"While I appreciate the effort, I don't need any sort of contrived apology," he sniffed, snatching his wrist away from the blunette's slackened grasp and in his vulnerability, he reverted to a holier-than-thou, noble demeanor. "I never expected anything different from the likes of you."

Grimmjow's aura darkened and Ichigo stiffened, poising to defend himself or straight out run for his life should the larger male pounce. However, a moment later and the dominant merely nodded once curtly.

"Fair enough," he said gruffly, shocking the orange-haired youth straight to the core. "Come on and hurry up then, unless you want us to leave you out here."

Ichigo blinked vapidly as Grimmjow strode past him and toward the waiting carriage before he snapped back to reality, shaking his head before hurrying after the blue-haired male. In the short amount of time it took for them to reach the open compartment door, the orangette noticed that like Shiro and Renji, Grimmjow had traded his plain traveling clothes for the traditional finery of vampiric noble society. However, all of his articles of clothing were a simple black save for his waistcoat made out of a silken fabric dyed a fetching bluish-gray that looked almost silvery when the light caught it.

Were they all going to try and pass for nobles?

While Ichigo had no doubt that his captors were competent in the ways of deceit, they could execute every convention exactly as someone of high birth would and any true noble would immediately spot them for impostors. There was this... wildness in their eyes, exquisite and bold, one that was ignited by a life outside of the unnatural ways of high society, by freedom.

Inside the carriage were two cushioned benches opposite each other and when Grimmjow took the seat next to where Shiro was sprawled haphazardly Ichigo sat in the only available spot beside Renji, keeping as close to his side as possible though there was more than enough room between him and the redhead. As soon as Grimmjow shut the door, the carriage lurched forward and they were moving down the dirt trail and, if Ichigo remembered his geography lessons correctly, to where the gateway bustling city of Junrinan lay.

"We'd best start fillin' him in now. It won' be too long 'fore the lil' watchdogs come sniffin' around," Shiro said casually, golden and ebony eyes staring up at the ceiling. Ichigo immediately stiffened, sitting straight up and regarding the other three with both caution and suspicion.

"Fill me in on what, exactly?" he said.

"Yer new identity," Shiro answered gravely, midnight sun gaze flickering over to the orangette.

"Excuse me?" Ichigo said incredulously, brows shooting up into his hairline.

"He's just teasing you. He means the alias you'll go by during our stay in Junrinan," Renji said and Ichigo spotted that the male was now wearing his overcoat and top hat, the brim lowered over his forehead so that his tattoos were completely hidden. He had to be one of those very few who actually managed to look... appealing wearing one.

"Alias?" Ichigo was beginning to feel like a parrot, repeating whatever the others said. However, he then realized his theory that the three dominant vampires were going to pose as noblemen had been correct. But what in the world would they do that for?

"Well, you certainly can't go around one of the province's biggest cities as the famous submissive gone missing, now could you?" Grimmjow said tonelessly, crystal blue orbs fixated on the trees rushing by visible through the carriage door's window.

No, he couldn't, Ichigo thought. Not now, when he'd decided he was determined not to return to the manor. But it wasn't as if he would be out and about, romping through the streets of Junrinan. No doubt they would probably lock him in a room during the time they spent there.

"Then who will I be going around as?" he questioned, folding his arms across his chest.

"Tenshou Adjuchas from Las Noches, the capital city of Hueco Mundo, heir to a small fortune in the family business of horse breeding and younger cousin to us three. On our father's side," Shiro said as if he was reading the information from some sort of document, his usual drawl nowhere to be heard as he enunciated every word perfectly. "You begged us to take you to see the sights of the mother country and, like the adoring relatives we are, obliged you."

Ichigo opened his mouth but then closed it again, unsure of how to respond to that exactly.

Hueco Mundo was a large colony under Rukongai's collective rule. It was located in the far south, tropical, exotic, and somewhat mysterious with large areas of dense, wild jungle surrounding the cities Rukongai had built for military bases and luxurious vacation homes for the wealthy and noble. The teenager had always wanted to see it for himself, see what the real face of nature looked like, unspoiled by the industrial touch of humans. When he'd gazed upon paintings of the colony's lush greenery teeming with all different forms of wildlife they had almost seemed to call to him somehow.

"Tenshou Adjuchas?" Ichigo finally said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. It didn't sound like a real name at all. Though he supposed he had no right to say such a thing, considering his own tragedy of a first name.

"Adjuchas is a common surname in the colonies. Shiro picked out the other one," Renji said causing the albino vampire to grin widely.

"Of course he did," the orangette muttered under his breath, not so discreetly shooting a venomous glare across the cabin.

"Yer mother was a native, so 'a course she named ya in their language," Shiro defended his choice of name. Clearly he'd thought this alias thing through quite a bit. "It means heaven piercer. Ya know, like an angel."

The male's snickers filled the small space as Ichigo flushed furiously and balled his fists in an attempt to control himself. Shiro seemed to have no greater joy than teasing him mercilessly with overbearing flattery and he fell backwards into Grimmjow's side, the blunette wasting no time before roughly shoving the albino to the floor whilst his gaze stayed glued out the window.

"Jesus, Grimm," Shiro said, pushing himself up. "Wha's got you in a mood?"

Grimmjow didn't respond, leaving Renji to take a guess.

"He didn't get to blow anything up today," he said contemplatively.

"Yea' , but he jus' took out tha' four story buildin' yesterday." Shiro tapped a white finger against his lips before they spread into a wicked, knowing smirk. "Awh, I think I know wha' it is."

The blue-haired vampires steely gaze snapped to where the other had flopped back down onto the seat beside him.

"He's a lil'... frustrated."

Ichigo was utterly lost as Renji let out a bark of laughter and Grimmjow growled, a vein ticking in his temple. It was plain as day that he was frustrated, that wasn't some great revelation so why did Shiro saying so aloud cause such a reactiong.

"It's all righ', Grimm," Shiro said in a mockingly soothing manner. "No one can blame ya when ya haven't eaten in days and ya've got a delicious lil' morsel right in front of ya."

So Grimmjow was... hungry? Vampires didn't get hungry unless they hadn't had their daily portion of blood, so that couldn't be it...

The blunette seized the other by the lapels, teeth grinding together audibly.

"Look you snowflake bastard, I-"

But he was cut short as the carriage lurched to a sudden stop, the motion so violent it would've sent Ichigo flying out of his seat had a hand not gripped onto the fabric of his overcoat, a hand belonging to the redhead beside him.

"Oh, we're here!" Shiro cried out like a child would, easily breaking free of Grimmjow's grasp to kick the carriage door open. Light spilled into the cabin, momentarily blinding Ichigo, but when his vision cleared his breath was then stolen from him. How he'd missed when they'd crossed from dark wood to the resplendent city streets of Junrinan he couldn't understand.

"You idiot, you're supposed to be a noble," Grimmjow said, following the albino out of the carriage. Ichigo then noted Renji rising to his feet as well, adjusting his top hat as he made to exit the coach.

"The hat," the redhead said to him. "Put it on." And then he too was gone.

Ichigo reached for the newboy cap he had bundled up into one of his pockets, unfolding it. In order to keep from being recognized he'd have to hide his now well-known long stands of tangerine hair. More trouble than it was worth, really.

Then he stepped into the brightly lit atmosphere of the playground of the rich and powerful. Junrinan was a city humans and vampires alike visited solely for pleasure, the entire metropolis a whirlwind of merrymaking.

However, there had to be a reason other than the promise of a good time that his captors had taken him here, something to do with him. Ichigo just had to find out what.


	7. Inked Drinks

As Ichigo was led into the grand, sparkling jubilee that was La Lavande Royale, it was obvious as to why it was considered the crown jewel of Junrinan, one of the most marvelous sights in all of Rukongai.

He'd heard of it before, of course - heard firsthand accounts of the architectural beauty and magnificence of the finest hotel outside of the capital city of Seireitei - but he'd never imagined aside from Kuchiki Manor that a mere building would so thoroughly captivate him. But the Royale, with its intricate, ornate Rococo design and sheer, twelve-story massiveness, did just that. This was the kind of urban, modern luxury the teen had never been exposed to in his secluded life in the countryside and it blew him away.

Ichigo was beginning to finally accept the reality that there was much of the world of which he knew nothing.

The marble-floored, immense grand foyer of the extravagant hotel was packed, dozens of well-to-do urbanites interspersed among the colossal columns and exotic potted plants, flanked by two parallel lines of mahogany desks overseen by uniformed employees - one to which Ichigo followed the other three vampires. It did not escape his notice that despite their party's formal camouflage they still attracted a great deal of attention, men and women alike sending them both furtive and admiring sidelong glances. He couldn't really blame them, his captors' presence was utterly overwhelming and drew the eye in a bewitching manner, all helpless to some sort of magnetic power. Ichigo himself could attest to that.

Shiro was the one to step forward and address the white and black bedecked clerk, a close-lipped smile meant to be polite but inevitably came off as sly on his pale face. Ichigo caught the clerk visibly gulp before speaking in a cordial tone with the slightest hint of trepidation.

"How may I be of service to you f-fine gentlemen this evening?" he said, adjusting his neat bow tie.

"I believe we 'ave a reservation under tha name 'Adjuchas'," Shiro said, proper as Ichigo had ever seen him yet still undeniably slinky, as if every word that left his lips possessed a hidden meaning. And as soon as the falsified surname fell upon the clerk's ears the young man immediately stiffened, eyes widening in recognition.

"Yes, of course!" he stammered, hands flipping through a thin volume of parchment whose horizontal lines were crammed with handwritten script. "Two of our finest rooms have been reserved in anticipation of your stay with us, as well as our best table in the dinner hall."

"Perfect, 'cept we'll only be needin' just tha one room fer tonigh'," Shiro said, causing a frown to instantly form on the lips of his orange-haired captive. Ichigo didn't know if he liked the sound of that, a single room as lodging for all four of them.

"Very good, sir. I shall have your luggage sent up immediately," the clerk said, sliding a brass key with a numbered card tied to the keyring onto the smooth counter that the white-haired dominant promptly snatched up and pocketed. "This was also left here for you earlier this evening." Ichigo watched two lily-white fingers tipped with ebony nails receive a small envelope - a blood red seal its only decoration. After that envelope disappeared inside Shiro's waistcoat, a gold coin then appeared to dance between his fingers and flipped up into the air, spiraling down to the clerk's waiting palm.

"Much obliged. We'll be showin' ourselves tha way ta tha' table now," Shiro dismissed the hotel employee, whirling around with a swish of his overcoat and stepping back into line with the rest of the traveling party. Flicking open the silver pocketwatch to view the clock face, his devious smile grew and almost to himself he said "Quarter 'till. Jus' in time ta play a hand."

...

It turned out that the 'dinner hall' wasn't really a place they served meals (not that Ichigo or any of the other fanged guests could dine on such fare, anyway.) The hall was actually a smoky, dimly lit affair dealing in the mildest forms of adult entertainment - gambling, liquor, and scantily-clad women, all of which the orangette had only ever read about for such scandalous topics were practically banned from Kuchiki Manor.

Card tables bordered the space, their atmosphere more subdued than the lively roulette and dice games being played at either end. Those not interested in chancing their luck lounged at the tables in the center of the room, nursing cigars and drinks whilst they conversed and laughed gaily.

Currently Ichigo was sitting at the 'finest table' the clerk had spoken of, a circular object smack dab in the middle and covered in a hunter green tablecloth and bare save for the rice-paper ensconced candle, the flickering flame casting light and shadows through the translucent material. To his right sat a still brooding Grimmjow, the blunette reclining in his chair with one elbow resting on the back, and to his left was Renji who was facing the other direction in order to signal one of the hourglass figures that were the waitresses, and directly across from him sat Shiro whose midnight sun eyes were luminescent in the candlelight glow and bored into him without mercy. Ichigo shifted nervously, folding his arms across his chest and pointedly looking down at his lap.

"And what may I get you four gentlemen to... quench your thirst?" A high-pitched feminine voice husked, bringing his gaze up to where she leaned over their table in between Renji and Shiro, her dress' off-the-shoulder neckline plunging far lower than decent. She was mildly attractive, her peony pink locks in a becomingly simple hairstyle contrasting against her creamy flesh, rosy cheeks, and big, dark eyes, and her shapely form was well suited to the revealing nature of her magenta-colored ensemble. Her smoldering gaze landed on Ichigo and she winked, her ensuing giggle at his fierce blush not appreciated.

"A round of your best 'thickwater'," Renji said, proferring a folded note of paper money with two fingers that she quickly plucked from his grasp and tucked into her apron pocket. It wasn't thirty seconds before she returned, her hands supporting a round tray carrying four short, square glasses - their contents a milky liquid a queer hue of grayish purple, a few ice cubes floating in each drink. Ichigo arched an eyebrow when his own glass was placed in front of him. Surely he wasn't supposed to actually drink it. How could he when the only sustenance his body allowed was a few mouthfuls of blood daily?

"There you are. Do enjoy," the waitress said, flashing a sultry smile sans sharp canines."If there's anything else I can do for any of you gentlemen, be sure to let me know."

Ichigo wrinkled his nose in distaste as she sauntered away, not even his naive ears missing the blatant double entendre. When he looked back to the other three at the table, he was surprised to see the dominants all take a sip of the questionable liquid and it must have shown on his face, expressive as it was, for Shiro grinned widely in amusement. "I take it yer lil' wet nurse never 'llowed any 'a this stuff near 'is two precious wards?"

He wanted to scoff at the pointless question, anyone who knew Byakuya, however distantly, knowing the answer to be a resounding negative. Obviously if this was a drink served to adult vampires after dark then the noble had doubtlessly forbid its consumption on the manor grounds. But Ichigo said nothing, knowing he didn't need to.

"Well, better late than never," Shiro said, gesturing with his glass. "Go on an' give it a lil' taste."

When the teenager hesitated, Renji spoke up from his left. "It's fine to drink, thickwater's specifically made for our kind. There's a few drops of blood to make it palatable," the redhead murmured before sipping from his glass again and for some reason Ichigo didn't want to dwell on he trusted what the tattooed dominant said unfailingly. Cautiously, he wrapped a hand around the base of his glass and raised it to his lips, tilting the drink to let some of the lavender liquid enter his mouth. His taste buds exploded with flavors, delicate palette picking out the subtle notes of sweet life elixir and the stronger taste of a mixture of things he couldn't place, his throat burning and eyes stinging after he swallowed.

"It's all right," he said, setting the glass down. Though he wouldn't have minded another taste, somehow Ichigo thought it better to hold off for now. He felt like his heightened instincts had detected something slightly off - probably just the alcohol. To his right, he noticed in the corner of his eye Grimmjow reach into his waistcoat and withdraw a single cigar and a small pocketknife.

Why was it so... attractive when the blue-haired vampire cut into the cigar and then narrowed his stormy azure eyes for a split second, a little spark of fire igniting the end in a controlled display of his psychic ability? Seriously, it wasn't like Grimmjow was doing anything even remotely provocative. He was actually participating in a habit Ichigo found utterly tasteless and this was the male who'd so recently molested him in an alleyway for crying out loud.

Ugh, what was wrong with him?

In an effort to place his thoughts elsewhere, the orangette was on the verge of asking if they planned to sit in the hall much longer when he was thwarted by a husky, female voice sounding somewhere above his head.

"My my, haven't you three become boring in your old age," it said, immediately calling Ichigo's attention. He looked up over his shoulder to see its origin and found something fitting of such a sensual voice it suited a high class call girl's stomping grounds more so than an upscale hotel's drawing room.

She was tall and buxom, but just ever so with hourglass curves and long, shapely legs covered but not hidden by the yards of light silvery purple satin and taffeta and gray timber wolf furs. Her hair was a cornsilk blonde fashioned into a coiffure with perfect ringlets that curled down around her elegant neck to brush against caramel flesh bare above her dress' off-the-shoulder neckline and a small ivory hairpiece of feathers, crystals, and stiffened lace in the shape of a dove had been meticulously pinned tilted atop her blond locks. Her eyes were magnificent - a marblesque spring green framed by long, thick golden lashes. The bright, white fangs displayed on the background of her rouge painted lips were almost entirely unnoticeable.

As if she was not already clearly sickeningly wealthy, her jewelry dripped with luxurious emeralds, pearls, and diamonds and the quality of the furs from which her timberwolf stole and muff were stitched were incredibly rare.

But the most surprising, and strangest, thing about this woman was that she was alone. No husband, no chaperon, no friend, not so much as a servant stood beside her. If even Ichigo was not societally allowed to wander the slightest inch without an escort, what about this vampiress rendered her an exception to this rule? And let us not forget the biggest question yet: why in blazes was she talking to them?

"So says she whose hair evidently now also serves as a portable birdhouse." Grimmjow was the first to acknowledge the woman, a puff of cigar smoke filtering through his full lips as he spoke. "And I won't bother saying anything about that dress, it speaks for itself. In all seriousness, Hali, if it hadn't been for the -ahem- ample assets I definitely wouldn't have remembered you were one of the fairer sex, hah."

Ichigo's jaw was in the middle of dropping in reaction to the blunette's utter lack of tact when an empty brandy snifter from the next table suddenly flew up into the air and shot straight over to smash itself over the crown of Grimmjow's big head. Glass shattered around tousled spikes of robin's egg blue and clattered to the surface of the dark green tablecloth within no more than two seconds, gasps from other hotel patrons preceding the scraping of their chairs on the hardwood floor as they tried to crane around and see what had caused the relatively miniscule disruption.

Not a single sound pervaded the following moment, surprise and confusion overwhelming one spectator in particular until he himself lifted the veil of silence with an uncontrollable peal of laughter. He knew it was an awful idea to broadcast his comedic pleasure at the sight of his arrogant captor whose blue locks and posh finery were sprinkled with tiny shards of glass and was frozen in position from shock, tropical blue eyes wide as the orangette had ever seen them. However, Ichigo was helpless to stop the snort of amusement that turned into an outright guffaw loud enough to carry across the entire dining hall and spur the others into similar fits of laughter.

"Bahahah! 's great ta know ya haven' los' yer touch, Tier, mah dear," Shirosaki exclaimed jubilantly, clapping his gloved hands together. "Ya know, was worried ya may 'ave gone soft on us after all these years outta tha game."

"Worry not, Shiro. Like you three and all of the others, I never once stopped playing," the blonde woman said solemnly, the most discreet of warm smiles tilting her red mouth. Her crystalline clover green orbs listed to her right so that she could look upon the disgruntled Grimmjow who was just now beginning to brush the broken pieces of glass off of his broad shoulders and run a hand through his stunning cerulean hair in order to comb any leftover shards out of the silken strands.

"Nevertheless, one may think it might be our pyrokinetic brethren who's been lavishing in the lap of luxury during our time apart; the Jaegerjaques I know would've not only dodged my projectile swiftly and surely as a civilian would a four-horse carriage then earnestly seized any of the dozen or so opportunities to return the friendly fire that've passed us by since."

She lay her left hand on Renji's shoulder, showcasing her ring finger upon which rested a gold wedding band starring a freakishly large at least five carat marquise emerald in the center whilst the rest of that half of the ring's outer circle was studded by two rows of quarter carat diamonds. There was no doubt in Ichigo's mind that this was the ring that had been given to the female vampire by her chosen suitor after she'd come into her Inheritance. If he were an admittedly shallow person, he would need to know nothing more to see why the blonde had snatched up the ring's owner for her legal husband and vampiric mate. Yet this single piece of jewelry amongst the woman's vast collection of gemstones and precious metals simply adorning her person right then and there, something Ichigo should've just noted and then moved on from, merely further piqued his interest about this vampiress.

"If I may Renji, you are without a doubt the most trustworthy of your toothsome trio of social misfits," she mused and Ichigo had to lower his gaze to his lap in order to hide his rolling eyes. To say any of his three captors were in any way trustworthy was positively absurd, but two out of the group had not befriended an innocent teenager with the devious intention of betraying his trust, kidnapping him at a most delicate stage of his life, and then dragging him aimlessly throughout the province while apparently waiting for an offer of a decent enough sum of money for his prompt delivery to wherever. "Perhaps you would be gracious enough to confirm whether or not my suspicion that the boy proves to be a great distraction is correct. There's but one reason worth that caliber of risk and it wouldn't be too surprising coming from you me."

Renji chuckled humorlessly, a half-grin crossing his face a fleeting second as he ripped off his newly acquired top hat, his curtain of Merlot red hair spilling fluidly from within its confines like a waterfall of the fresh blood of poppy flowers. Ichigo almost smirked at seeing that the redhead had refused to untie his black bandana, simply wrapping the dark piece of fabric vertically along his hairline instead of his usual horizontal style that covered the tattoos on his forehead. Contrary to the assumption an action so crass would cause an uproar that Ichigo was raised to believe, he seemed to be the only soul in the hall to notice.

"Mind games this early in the evening? I've barely even touched my drink," Renji sighed, demeanor lighthearted, and reached out to grasp his tumbler of thickwater. At his place to the dominant male's right, Ichigo wondered if he should speak up and then quickly realized it didn't matter if he should or not considering he had nothing at all to say that would make any sort of progress. He was rather hesitant to introduce himself to this blonde vampire. remembering what Shirosaki had instructed back in the carriage yet still unable to shake the feeling this woman knew more than she let on and would immediately pick out his false identity for what it was.

The glass of thickwater in Renji's gloved hand slid out of his grip and across the tabletop where it stopped right in front of Ichigo, the orange-haired submissive shrinking back into his chair in an effort to separate himself from the brusque action.

"Gentlemen, I think it would be prudent to stop pussyfooting around... " She paused, peridot orbs flitting toward the kidnapped teen's wide-eyed expression that appeared to dismiss him as unworthy when they snapped back to coldly pin the three other males to their seats. "I know you plan on staying dry as an empty well in the middle of a desert tonight. I know why you want to suddenly practice temperance tonight. I know who and what this has to do with, and I mean that in every possible way, do we understand each other?"

Sinking further down in his chair, Ichigo hastily grabbed his until now abandoned glass of thickwater and brought it to his lips. This time he completely ignored the fragrant flavors of the drink as he downed the entire beverage in one gargantuan gulp. He had to confess he did this purely for his limited knowledge of the effects of 'adult beverages' on humans and hoping this was the immortal equivalent because he was desperate to relax somewhat for even just a little while.

"Now, the one factor I cannot fit into the equation is why the location where this is supposed to take place somehow happens to be my hotel," Halibel whispered, leaning forward so both of her hands rested on the table's surface. Not appearing the slightest bit angered or hateful and still incredibly terrifying, she was an enigma - just like the other ninety-nine percent of Ichigo's life. All he had was a pile of puzzle pieces he'd barely begun to fit together into a full picture that revealed the truth of what was going on around him.

"You're a clever broad, I'll assent to that, Halibel," Grimmjow said, shaking his head and evidently unaffected by the blonde's intimidating aura. "But regretfully that's all I can say on the matter."

Ichigo vaguely pondered how long it should take for him to feel the thickwater's intoxicating effects because he was beginning to burn up under his layers of clothing, like he was out under the blazing sun of a distant country to the south and heat, instead of seeping in gradually as the cold did, was heavy and sticky and descended on one without mercy so they slowly suffocated.

The orangette exhaled heavily, fiddling with the knot of his cravat and after a few unsuccessful attempts untied the neckpiece. He yanked the length of silk off around his throat, but it wasn't enough. He could literally feel as his skin flushed red, darker and darker, the heat rising with the passing of seconds.

"'Broad,'" the woman named Halibel said distastefully, though her tone remained steady. Yet if one listened carefully, there was an undercurrent to her speech icy as the northern winds. "Would it really have been too much to ask for the compliment on my cleverness to remain just that- was the 'term of endearment' neccessary? Are you implying I am clever simply under female standards? As you so kindly reminded us earlier; yes, I do possess anatomy that differs from a male's and still you had trouble remembering which gender I belonged to. Character defines us, my brother; you know this more than most."

"Yes! Oh my god, t-that's... that's what I want to tell you guys all the time... " Ichigo piped up for the first time in the conversation, Halibel's words ringing true in his ears and emotionally moving him just so much.

That was exactly how he thought about gender politics, his new submissive status, and the whole archaic mating procession in the vampire world. Ichigo grabbed the tumbler formerly belonging to Renji and raised it in a toast to the ideals he and his new best friend Halibel shared, unaware of the raised eyebrows he earned when he knocked back his second drink.

"Ichi, maybe ya shoul' slow down," Shirosaki said, clearly trying to sound as gentle and inoffensive as possible while swiping the two empty glasses from the table and the orangette's hand. Ichigo made a grab for them but the albino was moving at the speed of light, or at least close to that.

"Damn it, exactly what we needed," he heard Renji swear under his breath and his tangerine brows furrowed intensely in a furious scowl, narrowed eyes landing on the redhead in question.

"Oh, excuse me," Ichigo said, practically abandoning English for sarcasm's very own, very bitter language. "Excuse me for inconveniencing you! You! You were the one w-who had the nerve to save my Zan from... and then you-... Whoa..." He trailed off once the surrounding area went from out of focus to moderately blurred and finally to spinning like a carousel.

"What the fuck? Not even this kid can be that much of a lightweight," Grimmjow muttered and the blobby blue shape on the right disappeared for a moment, reappearing closer to Ichigo's chair as an outline and only his most distinctive features were visible. Like his hair, and his teeth, and his bronze skin, and his eyes... Oh, his eyes. "Hali, the hell does your barkeep put in this goddamn stuff?"

"Absolutely not what's causing this kind of reaction, " the blonde insisted, her bleary lavender shape approaching the chair in which Ichigo was slumped over bonelessly. "Do not give me that look, Renji Abarai, I would trust Zaraki with my life."

There was no response that Ichigo could decipher. His toffee-brown eyes were half-lidded, hazy, and not really looking at any one thing in particular, his stare rolling around until his orbs stilled to peer into the distance blankly. This did not go unnoticed by those nearby, several uninformed patrons (whom also did not possess a medical degree) shouted aloud a variety of nonsense - that the boy was having a conniption or a seizure or was being possessed by the Holy Ghost and therefore speaking tongues. About half of the dining hall fled while the remaining half gathered around as closely as they could in order to get a better look.

Unable to see or think properly, Ichigo started to become alarmed by what was happening. He believed himself to be hallucinating the thickening crowd encircling him and the four other vampires, which was to doubt his own sanity and to cross that line spells absolutely mental and emotional pandemonium.

His head swimming, or drowning most terribly in an ocean whirlpool in the eye of a hurricane rather, and all of his senses compromised save his hearing, his frantic, disconnected thoughts swiftly turned morbid and soon he had concluded he definitely was dying. He could have been poisoned! Or maybe these were the symptoms of a sudden onset fatal illness. Or perhaps this was some sort of divine intervention wreaking judgement upon him now of all times.

"Shit, he's panickin'. Bad," an ethereal voice cut through the muddled daze and there was a cool, smooth hand on the side of his face, two fingers at his temple. Ichigo found relief at the mere touch, the wintry skin of whomever's hand it was combatting the scorching fever wracking his body and chilling the burn.

"Ichi, can ya 'ear me? 's yer buddy, Shiro, an' ya... Hey, 's all gonna be okay, ya understan'?... Yer fine... Ah, fuck this - he ain't listenin'. Grimm, prop 'em up an' if this works righ', get ready ta catch 'im."

To the sixteen year-old barely clinging onto consciousness, it was as if he was underwater when he caught traces of what was being said by those clustered around him. Hot ardence was boiling higher and higher in his gut ever since that cooling touch had left him and the bizarre thing was that it didn't really bother him anymore. The sensations were turning into something less strange and confusing, something that was soaring through him similar to the gales of blustering winter wind as he stood at the edge of the Kuchiki Estate's Manor roof. Four stories above the ground and untouchable, invincible, immortal - alive - that was what he was experiencing and how funny it would be at a time when he'd believed it lost to him forever.

God, what had been in that stuff?

Burly arms wrapped themselves around his waist and thighs, shifting his body so that he was sitting up properly in the dining chair. Ichigo blinked rapidly, unsure as to why he adored being held so closely to a solid, warm body when he usually abhorred such situations yet loving it all the same. Surprising himself a little when they went to pull away he closed his eyes blindly clutched onto a firm bicep emanating that addictively torrid splendor and held it to his chest.

He really was steadily feeling better, much better. Better than he could ever remember...

"Ichigo."

Shiro's intonation of his name startled the orangette awake as if the white-haired vampire had thrown a bucket of cold water over him. Ichigo's eyes snapped open yet his hazy delirium turned to fear yet again because when they did he couldn't see a thing. Everything was black.

"N-nothing's here," he whispered, aghast. Had he gone blind, or was this some sort of trick? The muscular arm was still trapped in his unforgiving vice and when Ichigo tightened his grip on the only solid thing he knew was almost crushed into dust with how desperately he clung onto it. "What was in that drink?" he demanded.

"Ichi, am righ' 'ere," Shirosaki's voice drifted through the emptiness, sounding only a few feet away but nowhere in the black void the other saw. "Listen ta mah voice. Let it guide ya through yer subconscious to tha worl' 'round ya. Ya are calm an' safe an' relaxed. Yer confident tha' everythin's gonna be jus' fine. Now come back ta us. Jus' take a step forward an' ya'll be back, trus' me."

This was very different from Ichigo's other encounters with Shiro's empathic ability. During those two times the vampire had controlled the younger's emotions as easily as snapping his alabaster white fingers, calming and reassuring him after both the false news of Zangetsu's death and that terrible nightmare what seemed an eternity ago but in reality had actually been just the night before. It had been a somewhat unpleasant feeling, having all the energy emotion created zapped right out of you and leaving you a husk of a being until you regained that sensibility.

Nevertheless, the third time was not the charm.

Instead of following in his previous experiences' footsteps, this exercise of Shiro's empathy went horribly wrong. Ichigo didn't feel the slightest bit calmer or better in any sort of way yet for some reason beyond his comprehension at that point he truly did trust that damn vampire and so he hesitantly took one step forward.

He was late.

He was late.

Late, late, late!

Oh, he was so late! So late! Though no one else heard save for the man thinking it over and over in his frazzled mind, the phrase kept banging clamorously like a gong throughout the busy streets of a fairly wealthy, clean city. He was walking as quickly as possible through the cobblestone avenues as sprinting was a young man's game, weaving and bobbing in between the crowd and their accoutrement to travel the distance to his destination all the faster.

Timeliness was clearly rather important to this man, an unfamiliar, nondescript, tall man (human, not vampire) on the wrong side of fifty sporting a full mustache, a mid-range priced cane, and his one saving grace that was his head full of thick, black hair with not a silver strand in sight. And yet there two oddities about this man, one more apparent than the other. The first and less impressive was his accessory of a golden pocket watch whose engraved dial hung freely from the chain attached to his over coat's lapel. If it was real, and somehow there was no doubt that it was, then the timepiece could definitely be worth a small fortune. Who would carry something that valuable on their person so casually?

The second was the fact that this man was missing his right eye, as in it was completely and totally gone. However, again his peculiar fashion taste prevailed and instead of wearing a simple eyepatch, there was a leather strap secured diagonally across his face and around his head. Some passersby, mostly children, stared at the strange prosthetic device and he paid no attention to a single one, for he was so very late.

A block down south, he finally slowed his pace as his destination came into view and he breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing something reassuring, which surprisingly enough was a patch of amaranth pink that stood out brighter than the sun in the dreary city streets. He was drawn to it like a beacon of light, his feet moving of their own accord until he stood not two feet away from the bright spot of color.

"Miss Kusajishi," he greeted and the young woman whose hair was as shockingly pink as it gets glanced over her shoulder from where she was surveying a cart of boxed sweetmeats. Dressed in a lower middle class girl's plain black bustle dress and bonnet, the pink-haired girl's face broke out in a blinding smile the instant she recognized the man addressing her. Her cheeks were overly painted with rouge and she had rather ordinary features but her big, russet brown eyes that radiated enthusiasm and smile that never faltered the tiniest bit enhanced her beauty.

"Mister Kutsuzawa, you're early!" she chirped, turning around to face the older man. "And how many times must I tell you to call me Yachiru? We've known each other for at least a fortnight by now, since we met at the rally wh-"

"Miss Kusajishi, we must be careful what we say in the presence of those on the outside," the man, Kutsuzawa, hushed her hastily. "I also do believe I would meet you here at half past four this afternoon, did I not?"

"Of course, that's why we're here, silly old man," Yachiru said, waving him off dismissively and distracting herself as she caught sight of parchment bags filled with exotic chocolates from Hueco Mundo, her mouth watering within an instant.

"Yes, but it is now four thirty-three and so again I apologize for my tardiness," Kutsuzawa said hurriedly, spotting that gleam in the young woman's eye that only sweets could bring. "I think it best if we exchange our packages and be on our way lest we be seen by prying eyes."

"Oh yes, yes, the 'packages'," the pink-haired girl whispered excitedly, reminiscent of a young pupil sharing a piece of gossip hot off the presses in the schoolyard. She stuck out her hand at chest level, palm facing upwards in an evident gesture of expectation. "I'll be wanting the incentive first, if you know what I mean, old man."

"I expected as much, Miss Kusajishi," Kutsuzawa sighed, giving a minute shake of his head and slipping a hand inside his coat, withdrawing two velvet drawstring bags of the same size and weight - one black, one red. "I can only hope you do realize it is you and your father's status and sheer dumb luck of being at the right place at the right time that provided you with the opportunity to extort an exorbitant amount of money from my master." Though as he spoke these words with sheer distaste, he let the red bag drop into the girl's waiting hand.

Yachiru eagerly loosened the drawstring, peering inside to ensure what she had been promised was all there and beaming searingly upon the assurance she wasn't wasting time chasing a pipe dream when she was needed at the textile factory during the day and the hall after hours. "I trust that it's all here?" she asked, thinking this was what a professional would say in this situation.

Kutsuzawa then thrust the black bag into her same hand, covering the much friendlier contents with their... catch.

"As long as you are a woman of your word, Yachiru Kusajishi, my master will be a man of his."

Night had fallen and it was a few hours later that night, the oil burning in the lamps lining the mostly empty city streets and the curtained windows of townhouses and, further into the metropolis, the grandest buildings it had to offer, their shining star none other than La Lavande Royal.

Behind the immaculate entrance of the hotel was where all of its dirty work took place far from the sensitive palates the guests, trash, wooden crates, and rotten food littering the gutter nearby. There were two sets of doors that led into the kitchen and bar area, the former one propped open to air out some of the smoke a small grease fire had caused. Fifteen feet down, the bar and dining hall set of doors were atop a two-step stoop where a group of waitresses were huddled close together, chatting and giggling about their inane lives.

Without warning the doors behind them flew open and a deep grunt was their single sign of caution before a box of overripe fruit propelled out through the portal and crashed into the stinking pile of similiarly contaminated garbage. A few moldy grapes escaped their crash landing early however and fell into some unfortunate brunette's intricate coiffure, which led to an indignant shriek of disgust and a low chuckle.

"Hey!" a bass voice boomed at the breaking waitresses, their immediate reaction to shut up and pay due respect to the hotel's menacing head bartender who didn't need to be humongous and wear his hair in spikes to be frightening. "Any of you girls see where the brat went off to?"

The young waitresses all shook their heads, their ignorance truthful yet even if they did know where his daughter was they'd be petrified speechless anyway. "Huh, wherever the kid is she left a spot open on the hall floor. You, get in there!" the head bartender ordered the brunette with the soiled hair, pointing at her and then jerking a thumb behind him inside. He waited for the girl to pass him before giving the street a last cursory look for a spot of pink that may be his daughter and seeing nothing but refuse and rats, slammed the doors shut.

"She gets into any more trouble and I'll kick 'er out on the streets, ungrateful wench," he grumbled to himself, clueless to what kind of trouble was brewing not only with said wench but also two men a city block to the west, near the stables.

It was almost like the unraveling of a cliche murder mystery novel - the totally abandoned city streets, the flickering lamp post, the way Kutsuzawa was lying in wait pressed up against the end of an alley wall, the unsuspecting victim nonchalantly walking right into his murderous clutches. Yet that was where the similarities ended, the victim not exactly the hapless, helpless innocent that always suffers a gruesome death at the beginning of the novel in order to introduce the character of the merciless killer.

In the split second preceding Kutsuzawa's lily-livered sneak attack, his intended kill's face was illuminated by the faint glow of the fluttering flame of the lamp post. A handsome, young dominant male vampire with shaggy black hair, charcoal eyes, and tattoos in the shape of a gray band over his cheekbone and bridge of his nose and the number sixty-nine underneath, Ichigo and the others' 'carriage driver' Shuuhei was instantly recognizable.

He was tossing the end of a gray scarf over his shoulder when the older man pounced, the cane he'd been carrying earlier pressing against Shuuhei's throat and making him choke on his gasp. Now, most sane people would consider this fight - a young vampire versus an old man - and probably laugh if asked who they thought would win. Yes, Shuuhei had advantages in strength, speed, sense, overall power, and the fact that it has been recorded that eleven vampires in all of history have been killed by humans. But Kutsuzawa had some moves.

Shuuhei gripped the cane cutting off his air supply, bending forward and using the momentum to flip the man off of him and onto his back on the pavement. The mortal should've been winded and perhaps defeated then and there but Kutsuzawa leapt onto his feet in one fluid motion, twisting the black enamel shaft of his cane and separating it into two pieces that each bore wide, ten-inch steel blades.

It was plain as day that Shuuhei was utterly lost as to who this man was and why he'd attacked him, a curious gleam shining in his dark gray eyes whilst they stared each other down. "Who are you?" he asked neutrally, shifted to the side into a defensive stance though he refrained from any sort of counterattack. Knowledge is always the most important weapon, after all.

"Why should I waste my breath telling you, immortal fiend? You will soon be dead," the elder of the two sneered, his dignified aura waning as anger rose to the surface. Then he twirled his right blade a few times in his hand, raising it above his head and chopping his arm through the air. The blade span perfectly and his aim was true but it hadn't traveled even halfway when Shuuhei unfurled his front fist and faced the oncoming blade with his open palm.

There was the awful screeching noise of metal bending, a nails on chalkboard kind of sound, and Kutsuzawa eyes widened to the size of his beloved pocket watch as they beheld the steel blade crumple into a palm-sized ball as if it had been no more than a piece of parchment. He had believed their intelligence that there was only one surviving vampire capable of full telekinesis.

"I won't ask again; who are you? What is it that you want with me?" Shuuhei demanded of the other male, probably wanting to hold off on using physical force unless it was absolutely neccessary. Kutsuzawa had other ideas, however, and spun his remaining blade one full rotation before angling his body away from his opponent and chucking the weapon in an arching motion. It flew far above either of them in a circle, exactly as a boomerang would.

The bladed weapon skid over the tips of the iron cast street lamps and sent six consecutive small flares of orange and yellow sparks. He caught the cane piece once it returned to its original trajectory, his expression unreadable and therefore making it even harder for the vampire male to understand what this stranger's motives were.

"I'd been under the impression that except for a former officer there were no other... living vampires with the unnatural ability of telekinesis," the man said casually, his tone almost that of someone making everyday conversation, appearing to be a normal elderly man. Or, almost. "I have prepared for the days to come all my life, served one master nearly as long, and yet for all my work and dedication this is my end..."

It seemed that this speech was nothing but nonsense to Shuuhei, whose stern frown deepened and he sighed the tiniest bit as he made his decision. Waving his back arm in a downward curve that swept up parallel in position to the other, then curled his fingers into his palms. The trashed, discarded blade ascended into the air and shattered into a thousand little pieces that hung there like thick mist. Revolving his palms outwards, he pointed at the shimmering steel with two fingers on either hand which conjured the metal to swirl and loop around until they formed regulation grade handcuffs perfectly cinched around Kusutzuwa's wrists. He didn't so much as blink at being restrained, falling to his knees on the cobblestone pavement and looking up to the sky dramatically.

"Look, you can get off of the ground; I was never going to kill you," Shuuhei said, exhaling exasperatedly under his breath and beginning to walk toward the man who was clearly senile a decade or two early. "I'm taking you down to the station and they'll decide what to do-... with you..." the brunette vampire trailed off, sniffing the air cautiously and then there was a soft breeze that brought with it the horrid scent of the foulest stench.

It was the smell of disease and rot and decay and everything awful in this world - the smell of death. That was the only possible way to put it, no words strong enough to fully describe its repugnance.

"What-!" Shuuhei cut himself off, gagging on the putrid air and covering his nose and mouth with his scarf and hand. "What in God's name is that smell?" His cry was muffled by the wool of his scarf but Kutsuzawa chuckled heartily and as the vampire stepped closer to the man the stench grew stronger, its intensity immeasurable. Then it was obvious that whatever the scent was it was coming from the steel blades themselves.

"That, you filthy bloodsucking devil, is progress!"

A gunshot rang out just as Kusutzuwa's spoke his last word, his very last.

Dark crimson blossomed underneath the white linen of the man's shirt in the dead center of his chest, his kneeling body dropping forward heavier than a stone, his face turned on its side so that his rounded eyes swimming with terror and madness were still visible.

Swearing blackly, Shuuhei whipped around to the source of the shot and inhaled sharply upon laying eyes on the cloaked figure of the murderer. He'd know those pair of eyes that were currently staring him down anywhere. And that was when he realized that Kutsuzawa hadn't been attempting an attack on him when the man had used his blade to skim the posts and send flares of sparks all along the street.

He'd been signaling somebody.

...

BOOM.

It's totally understandable for one to believe that should someone wake from a vision anything close to the previous they'd gasp wildly whilst their eyes flew open, then they'd immediately go about telling everyone and rushing to the rescue. In fact, that would've been precisely what Ichigo's plan of action would be under normal circumstances but things were a little different this time around - mostly because he was still high as a damned cloud.

After hearing that second gunshot, Ichigo sensed as if he drifted back into his body that sluggishly came back to life. He was still overheated and flushed with the good, better kind of warmth that was more of a humid June evening and less of a scorching hot pit of molten lava, which was somewhat of a relief. Actually, overall he was feeling relatively dazed, like a lazy, sleepy overweight dog, and he would've been quite comfortable continuing to lounge lackadaisically in his chair had it not been for two voices growling viciously at each other. They were amazingly disruptive to his rest.

"What in the seven hells did you do to him, you pale-assed bastard? He looks even worse than before!"

"I tried ta help 'im, ya brainless arsehole! And I didn' see ya do nothin' useful this whole blasted time!"

"How could I when I had to make sure you didn't accidentally kill him with your creepy hypnosis trick? I guess we're fortunate he was only unconscious for an hour and a half and had convulsions for about five minutes straight," Grimmjow barked back, the thunderous rumbling of his voice making Ichigo wince. "And who knows what kinda permanent damage you did to him! If anything's wrong with the brat I'll-"

The thought hadn't even fully registered in his mind when Ichigo leapt from his seat, knocking his hipbone into the corner of another table and therefore in too much pain to care about the glassware and cutlery rolling onto the floor. "Ow, that hurts," he muttered lowly, clasping a hand to the wounded area and glaring at the offending piece of furniture which was now empty. Well, the whole dinner hall was empty now except for Grimmjow, Shiro, himself, and a silent Halibel. "See, this is the reason why all of this senseless yelling has to stop, because-... Hey, where did Renji go? And everybody else, too."

"Ren took 'em outside fer a bit 'a fresh air," Shiro answered smoothly, the first to recover from the orangette's surprising behavior, and sauntered a few steps closer toward the younger. Ichigo couldn't help but shoot the blindingly beautiful being a coy smile. At least, he hoped it was coy since he'd never exactly practiced one. It must have been somewhat enticing, he figured, because the dominant came closer 'till they were mere inches apart and those magnetic unearthly eyes were melting into his, a connection that spurred Ichigo into daringly reaching out for the other's hand.

And yet his fingertips met nothing but empty air, Shirosaki spinning on his heel to address the two other vampires. "He's got pinprick pupils: telltale tha' somebody def'nitely slipped 'im somethin' like poppy serum. Am sure 'a it."

Ichigo furrowed his brow and opened his mouth to say something for his mind to give him not a damn thing to say. Well, none that were as witty as he would've liked. Plus, he could swear he could hear music, a piano concerto light and sweet and faint as if its incognito composer played the black and whites somewhere high above, perhaps the attic. Oh, he should love to wander up there and listen to the harmonic melodies. He could bring Shiro, and Renji, and Grimmjow. Yes, and they could lay down some plush furs on the floor and stretch out beside each other... Halibel could stay here, though. It would be a kidnappers and kidnappees exclusive soirée after all so she would just feel left out of the fun.

"Ichigo!" Grimmjow again barged into his thoughts, or rather kicked down the door, stomped across them, seized the teen in his arms and dragged Ichigo out of them. "Pay attention, this is important, got it? You need to tell us how you felt after that first drink. Do you remember anything right afterwards? What about now?"

"Tasted kinda weird buttt... I never had it before so... " Ichigo shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes nonchalantly. "It got really hot though, I remember that, and when I say 'hot' I mean all I wanted was to take everything off. I only managed to get rid of my neck thing, which I hate wearing anyway. Then there was so much noise and too many people, I thought I had lost it completely."

Walking through his cloudy trail of memories that seemed more like dreams than reality was taking Ichigo down a road he automatically didn't like for some reason, his gut clenching and temples throbbing more and more painfully. "It was starting to get a little better," he whispered, cringing as his head pounded and his thoughts became even more difficult to keep organized. "Then Shirosaki tried to calm me down with his empathy and I was in a black hole and there was nothing but I stepped forward anyway and... a-and someone was late. He needed to talk to this girl, she-...oh God, I think I'm going to be sick."

Ichigo's eyes were screwed shut as someone guided him back down into his chair, nausea swiftly rising within him as flashes of his three visions roiled around in his head like a masted ship on stormy seas. He peeked out the corner of his eye to confirm it was Halibel whose gentle hands were on his shoulders and he suddenly felt the shameful pressure behind his eyes, warning of coming tears. The submissive knew it had to do something with whatever substance had been slipped in his thickwater that then made him think he would do anything for a simple hug right at that moment - any kind of affectionate gesture would do, really.

But he didn't have time to be embarrassed or throw himself a pity party, because if he truly had Seen the ending of his third vision and it wasn't a side-effect of whatever was coursing through his system then there wasn't a moment to spare.

"The man that was late and talking to this girl, I saw him again earlier tonight - I don't know what time exactly, maybe an hour ago. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Ichigo said breathlessly, using every ounce of his willpower to overcome this unknown drug's intoxication that was steadily heightening. "I saw him attack your friend Shuuhei. He lost, of course, but then there was this smell of death all around and somebody shot the man from a rooftop. He died instantly. Shuuhei turned around to see who the shooter was and the last thing I heard was the boom of a gunshot. I understand it seems stupid and crazy and I don't know what's what but that sound, it was... It was so final."

Vampires cannot die from a gunshot, nor a hundred of them. This is myth, legend, history, science, fact.

"I'm so sorry, I know he was your friend," was what Ichigo said to rid them of the oppressive silence. "Zangetsu liked him, too. He tends to favor people with facial tattoos for some reason..."

The orange-haired vampire glanced up at the others, finding them all standing in a row before him and their gazes lowered to the floor and unfocused and even still no less bone-chilling and frighteningly bright. Ichigo's eyelids drooped of their own accord, quickly succumbing to the sedative properties of whatever witch's brew he'd consumed as he'd used up all of his strength of will to deliver the dreadful news with some of the dignity the fallen immortal deserved.

The lighter side to being drugged under the orders of someone who you couldn't pick out of a catalogue of one is all those confusing questions like 'why' and 'how' and 'is somebody trying to kill me' that happen to pop up like weeds afterward are delayed for a little while. For example, Ichigo was becoming very concerned about finding a nice, soft bed to face plant onto, callous as it may seem.

His chin had just started to descend to meet his chest when leather soled boots stomping toward them like a herd of Hueco Mundonian elephants roused him back somewhat to consciousness. Craning his neck up to peer around the chair, Ichigo hummed quietly at the sight of his favorite buff redhead making his way through the abandoned dining hall as if he the proverbial bull to its china shop. There was no mistaking he was absolutely livid.

And with the canvas of his rage what an electrifying portrait he painted, his vivid scarlet locks hanging loose over his chiseled features and strong shoulders, sweat clinging to his exotically tattooed brow and the off white undershirt outlining his rippling muscles and Adonis lines (Ichigo didn't care why he was missing half his outfit, simply grateful for the view.)

His physical beauty was blasphemously overshadowed by the fury and pain radiating from within, his energy and appearance wild as unexplored, dangerous lands. Ichigo's heart twisted wretchedly, knowing how having something precious taken from you could very well break a weaker man.

"How did you find him?" Halibel asked in that severe manner of hers, the male she was speaking to wearily trudging the rest of the distance.

"I heard the shots being fired. One. Two. Just like that," Renji told them, not once glancing at any of others and pointing his finger and thumb in the shape of a pistol, pretending to fire the two bullets that had stolen a life each that night. "You wanna know how far away I was when that second shot rang out? Five fucking blocks. Five... Hah, how's that not the most ironic bullshit you've ever heard?"

His bitter question was blatantly rhetorical and guit began gnawing away at the orangette; he wasn't worthy of the bestowal of his Seeing abilities, not in the least. Did it really have to come to this level of tragedy and ingestion of narcotics for him to tap into comprehensible visions?

Again, the narcotics in question wiped the slate of his mind clean and he was left staring hopelessly at Renji, disoriented and unable to remember why his head and heart hurt so badly.

"Where'd you put him?" Grimmjow said, his left hand noticeably stroking the holster at his hip. A brief thought passed through Ichigo's conscience that maybe if he was better at controlling his power and able to identify Shuuhei's killer if then the beautiful blunette would look at him with anything besides contempt.

"Right outside the city limits at the bottom of a hill in the woods; made a marker out of two branches I found on the ground," the redhead said, threading dirty fingers through his glittering gemstone garnet locks. Then he gave half of a smile, a ghost of laughter flitting over his visage. "It's premier real estate - right in the center of the view from their gate posts. Definitely worth the extra time I spent unearthing those roots, in my opinion."

"Hahah, he would'a loved that', Red," Shiro cackled amiably. "An' I'm gonna love gettin' tha yellow spineless sack 'a shit writhin' in agony under tha heel 'a mah boot. Say Ichi, our deares' - an' loveliest - Seer, ya wouldn' mind takin' a look in tha near future fer tha' particular scene, woul' ya?"

"Che, you know I'm no Seer. You know, you saw me fail miserably at it twenty-five minutes ago!" Ichigo shouted, jumping to his feet and pointing an accusatory finger at the startled albino. "You know 'm worse than useless, can't do anythin' right, and now yer gonna rub it in mah face, you stupid... snowman jackass! Yeah, I may not have an awesome ability like your fancy feeling powers but at least I have a normal amount of melanin in my skin cells!"

Christ above, what in the holy hell did I just say? Ichigo thought in a panic after his outburst. That's it, I am never drinking again. And I'll hire a taste tester to take the first sip of everything I drink from this day forward so this never happens again. I don't understand how people can honestly enjoy this. I know what I want or meant to say in my head and then it all flies out the window as soon as I open my mouth. Ugh, why must my life be an eternal struggle with my own frustration?

"Damn, did you ever figure out what exactly he's got in his his system?" Renji questioned the three older vamps, utterly ignoring the belligerent orangette even while he tred over to the side of the table to the left of Ichigo's. A big hand grasped the cup that had originally been served to the teenager, raising it for a quick sniff that wrinkled his nose.

"'e's got pinpricks, so he 'ad ta 'ave some poppy juice in there," Shiro said, gold on black eyes targeting Ichigo's flushed face and turning it even a deeper red. "Ya spy anythin' ya may've studied during' yer travels abroad?"

"Yeah, I do," Renji confirmed soberly, smoothing a fingertip along the bottom of the tumbler and withdrawing it to reveal a minute dusting of crushed green... grass? Herbs? They were the remnants of something of the earth for sure. "This is a refined form of the leaves of a plant they just started importing across seas; Latin name cannabis. The plant itself actually has a lot of practical use but packing it into paper and smoking it like tobacco is what's really growing in popularity, the effects mild and pretty much harmless - lethargy, cravings, slowed reaction time, stuff along those lines."

"Then why bother? Seems to be as potent as old tea leaves," Grimmjow scoffed, standing behind the redhead's right shoulder so he could look on.

"Somewhat true, but get a whiff of that," Renji elaborated, lifting the glass up for the blunette to get a decent waft of whatever else had contaminated the boy's beverage. He'd barely gotten six inches when realization sparked in cerulean orbs, the corner of Grimmjow's mouth twitching irritably.

"Fuckers, this new hybrid narcotic** or whatever you want to call it is nothing save an aphrodisiac for pathetic despoilers," he condemned gruffly, sparing the empty glass a look of disgust before striding away like its mere presence offended him. Ichigo hadn't been truthfully following the conversation, though not for lack of trying. That was up until Grimmjow's last sentence and the sickening tingling of shame prickled along the nape of his neck and he rubbed the goosebump-covered flesh using both hands.

Further under this nefarious substance's influence as time passed ever so slowly, his aura grew increasingly more tainted by how vulnerable, cheap, and dirty the knowledge that all that trouble had gone into ensuring an availability between his legs. He had hated most of the treatment he'd received following his Inheritance but this was different. This was proof that there was someone lurking out there in the shadows - watching, stalking, and waiting - and they wanted to hurt him.

"Have over'eard tha bes' cure fer these... 'love drugs' is ta jus' try ta relax an' sleep it off," Shiro's lilting voice drifted over to where he was seated and somehow Ichigo knew it was entirely for his benefit, his toffee brown orbs looking up at the enigmatic, infuriating, and admittedly amazing vampire from under the shade of his thick, dark lashes.

"An' we do jus' happen ta 'ave a room reserved on tha top floor, far 'way from tha drunkards an' gamblin' fools down 'ere. By tha way, Tier, ya picture 'a radiance wit' tha' golden hair 'a yer's that reminds me 'a dawn's early ligh', I'll be thinkin' we'll be requirin' tha' generous hospitality 'a those suites jus' a few measly more days, given tanight's events. In fact, let's set our younges' 'ere wit' a room 'a his own - wit' a balcony view 'a tha main avenue."

"And you're going to let me go alone and be so bold as to breathe without permission from one of the Neanderthals keeping me as their personal... pet or prized artifact you can parade through the whole bloody province like a show horse for the time being while you wait on an offer worth a small fortune that you'll never get because here's tomorrow's headliner: I'm not that great! All those bitchy nobles will expose mesoon enough when they find out my Seeing ability is a load of crap! Hahahah, oh my sweet Shiro, you do so know how to make me laugh!"

"Here we go again," Renji huffed, still scanning the now infamous tumbler glass.

"I still can't wrap my head around why we actually decided to take this ignorant, spoiled brat and his bright ass hair on the several week long trip to Junrinan. He attracts trouble like a bitch in heat," Grimmjow mused in a manner decent people reserved for when the topic of discussion is at least not in the same room. "I say we cut our losses and leave him on the side of the road so he can become some other poor bastard's problem."

"I would love to see you try."

That was the moment Ichigo was graciously presented with his first sighting of Grimmjow truly smiling, its rarity not lost on the orangette. In that brief frame of time he could akin himself to a wildlife explorer discovering a new species never known to man before then. That lush mouth the keeper of two unreally perfect rows of pearly white teeth sharpened like a predator's, his fantastically long, pointed fangs the most impressive he'd seen in all his sixteen plus years. Encountering a warm, fuzzy contentment he'd missed since early childhood, Ichigo had no defense against their dazzling enchantment.

"Do mine ears deceive me, Ichigo? Is that a challenge I hear as your proposal?" Grimmjow practically purred, showcasing a playfulness to his personality the younger vampire had yet to anything but glimpses of in the time they'd known each other. "Don't toy with me now, kid, if you know you cannot compete with the big boys, or dare not to even try, speak up now. I do not take kindly to disappointment."

"Is that so, Jaegerjaques? I would've believed laying in bed alone every night and having to resort to taking care of things yourself you would have grown used to it."

Ichigo didn't know where he'd gotten the nerve to say that, either. Well, it was probably the euphoric energy buzzing inside him that he knew wasn't exactly a natural sensation. Nevertheless, it was pumping confidence, enthusiasm, and bliss throughout his bloodstream and his frazzled nerves clinging onto the potential danger they were in were finally simmering down from a crackling bonfire to a pile of ashes.

"Ah, so then you've been watching me pleasure myself when time is too precious to waste on the hunt for a suitable nighttime companion?" Grimmjow quipped, not missing a beat, and the fiendish tease in him was making quite the grand entrance. He'd moved fluidly to the opposite edge of the table and bent down closer to the teen's seated form than was decent, his large, calloused hands splayed on the green tablecloth on either side of the other. "If you enjoy playing the voyeur that much, I'll be sure to amplify my performance next time. Then you'll be able to mentally re imagine me in your old, fat husband's place and fake your passion properly. It'll be our little secret. If anyone outside this room knew how kind hearted I truly am my reputation as a heartless outlaw would be ruined."

Ichigo let his lips tilt in a small smile, loving his fleeting freedom from his crippling bashfulness and intending to take full advantage. Certainly the rest of the world would consider putting their head in a lion's mouth to be less of a risk than what he was the very first to both attempt and accomplish. Gripping the lower half of Grimmjow's gorgeous face in one hand and tightening his grasp so the elder's lips and cheeks mushed together, Ichigo cooed whilst wearing the perfect expression of condescending adoration.

"It is so adorably cute how you try so hard, Grimmy," the submissive said fondly, letting go of the other male's face and pinching the edge of his straight nose in a gesture a doting grandparent would use with their young grandchild. "Oh, bless your heart you dear, dear boy. You'll find someone that was made special just for you, even if that takes years - decades perhaps since no one can tell the future, you know. But, I suppose because you're just so sweet if you want to pretend that I'm there watching you when you touch yourself at night well, that's okay with me. It'll be our little secret."

The flawless look of 'what the fuck' plastered on Grimmjow's face was one of those precious memories Ichigo knew he'd never forget as long as he lived. Those big blue eyes that appeared on the verge of bulging right out their sockets, that slack jaw, those parted lips ready to speak but incapable of doing do, the red mark Ichigo had led on the dominant's nose... Oh, it was a priceless masterpiece like the Mona Lisa or Starry Night.

It was evident the snickering Shiro and softly chucking Renji were not on the same page of admiration yet Ichigo didn't

"You are much different than I expected of you, Ichigo Kurosaki," Halibel spoke up from her position ten feet to his right. "I don't know of many teenaged nobles that act and think as you do, especially submissives recently come into their Inheritance when they're constantly primped and polished and fawned over like goddesses themselves. And yes, I do realize I was once one of them myself but we are all allowed a grace period of simple mindedness at that age."

"Oh good, then the terrible threesome can cease and desist convincing me I'm a total idiot about once every hour," the orange-haired teenager mused mildly, eyes flickering up to the woman's hairpiece."This isn't at all related, but why do you wear a fake bird in your hair? Do you really... like that thing?"

"I realize that if your head was clear you're far too considerate of others' feelings to comment on it. Kindness is something humans and our kind alike never fail to blatantly ignore if they're able to do so without much backlash. We are also experts in a shared denial of how important it is to all of us," Halibel glided over the floor gracefully, seating herself in a chair she slid it against Ichigo's in order to whisper to him in a private conversation.

"In my life I have learned one absolute truth, Ichigo, and it is that it is not government or war or power that shapes the world and the people within it. No, it is those single acts of simple kindness. They are everything, the beginning and the end. They have molded all our lives, traced our destinies, and connected us to those we live these lifetimes for." Spring green eyes locked onto Ichigo's, conveying a message he wasn't sure he fought through the drugged daze to bring deep within himself or whether the expanded state of mi he was experiencing allowed him the mental capacity to connect the fragments of knowledge together using just one string. "My husband bought this hairpiece for me on an afternoon walk when he saw it in a window display and knew he was supposed to bring it back to me."

"He sounds like a wonderful husband. Where is he if you two own this place together?" Ichigo asked, curious as to what he would make of the man that merely had to be mentioned and an affectionate glimmer would appear in Halibel's guarded gaze.

"He is away on an extended trip to Hueco Mundo, his presence needed to oversee some new construction projects around Rukongai's ports. It's been a very lonely six months, I'll admit," the woman confessed gently, unfastening the left wrist button on the sleeve of her exquisite lavender dress. She then pushed the satin material up to get elbow, exposing her inner forearm to the orangette. And it was far from bare.

"Tattoos have always been an important part of the lifestyle we lived in the time before we settled down here in Junrinan. Almost every member of my husband and my family has marked somewhere on their body with permanent ink, it is a part of our incredibly small but tightly knit... club might be a good word for it as we are not blood-related, per se." The incredible bond the vampiress shared with her mate and the other members of her family as her lace gloved fingers followed the lines of the inked design ranging from her wrist to the inside of her elbow, her flawless caramel skin the background for an impressively intricate portrait depicting a pack of wild Artic wolves running down her arm like they were headed straight for freedom. "His spirit is in the image of the alpha wolf, a strong, silent leader who still knows how to howl at the moon when I do something very right if that's not too bold of me to say."

"Wow, it's beautiful," Ichigo breathed, drinking in the lifelike imagery of the tattoo. "This something that can make a man howl like a wolf, do you promise to share the trade secret if I ever find a mate?"

"Of course, Ichigo. However, now I think I'll retire for the evening and I think tomorrow will be a long day," Halibel said, rising from the chair and steadily marching the length of the nearly silent hall. "Please do make sure they behave themselves at least until sunrise. I think if you put your foot down and hold your ground they'll listen to you. Breakfast is served at eight thirty in the formal parlour. Oh and remember what I said," she paused at the shut doors leading into the hallway. "All it takes are those single acts of simple kindness."

Then he was by himself with the three dominant vampires, who'd spread out in different directions in the hall and their presences pulled Ichigo toward all of them. Conflicted, he bit into his bottom lip using his fangs and mentally buckled down in order to choose what would be his first move. It shouldn't have been as unbearably difficult to sort out his plan of action as it was and yet the second he thought he'd picked his first target, his heart would grow heavy.

This wasn't even including the whole debacle of what these kind acts would be specifically. All he knew was they had to be 'simple.' Simple as in buying a present for the one you love just because, simple as in stepping in to stop the abuse of an innocent creature, simple as in offering a unique brand of comfort during times of distress, simple as in overcoming a monstrous ego to apologize for a single mistake, simple as in opening the door when three orphaned boys are standing on your front porch as their only option to shield themselves from the pouring rain and inviting them inside for chocolate chip cookies.

"I'm pretty sure everytime I look over to wherever you are, you're always so clearly thinking way too hard about something. Not everything has to have a definite answer, you know." It was Renji who'd addressed him, the redheaded dominant vampire leaning back on his elbows against the bar where the orangette had subconsciously noted him searching the area for some kind of clue as to who was behind Ichigo's current intoxication. There was a rag slung over his shoulder that had once upon a time been white before he'd used it to wipe the dirt and mud from his hands and forearms, the earthy coating of grime gathered from earlier that night when he dug a proper grave for his fallen friend with his bare hands as he'd been a vampire and therefore could not be buried on the hallowed ground within the city nor have an official religious grave marker so Renji had fashioned a cross from two branches.

Again, Ichigo would never know which part of him made the conscious decision to ignore all of the dreadful happenings directly surrounding their little traveling party, at least just for the night. He could think about it tomorrow.

Smiling easily due to his lowered inhibitions, Ichigo realized he'd made his decision and began walking his way toward his act of kindness, unknowingly following in the footsteps of someone who'd also been taken from his far too early in his life.


	8. Clueless Revelations

"Renji, Renji, Renji..." Ichigo cooed as he walked straight up to the bar where his redheaded captor was sitting, brooding and staring at his almost empty glass of thickwater. It was apparent even to the blind, and Ichigo's drug addled mind, that he was the most upset over the death of their tattooed carriage driver. Grimmjow and Shiro only seemed mildly troubled by it, the young vampire clearly only an acquaintance of theirs.

Comfort was not something Ichigo was particularly good at, along with many other forms of human interaction, and yet with Halibel's words ringing in his clouded thoughts and the pang in his heart at seeing such grief in the other's eyes Ichigo acted upon instinct. Laying a hand on Renji's upper arm, he swallowed harshly and attempted to steel himself for the first of those acts of kindness the orangette hoped to use to gain favor with the three dominants.

Renji looked over his shoulder, rich burgundy gaze tinted with the color of surprise as he'd obviously never expected in a thousand years for Ichigo to touch him in such a manner.

"I'm sorry for your loss. He... he must've meant something - I mean, a lot, to you." Ichigo told him, collecting himself together as much as possible in order to say the appropriate words of condolences. This was much harder than one might think when it seemed like the walls had started to undulate and the temperature skyrocketed yet again. "Oh, it's hot in here. My God, it's like summer in Huec-... Hueco Mundo... and how come everybody's gone still?"

Ichigo listed to the side a bit, one hand unbuttoning his waistcoat until Renji's fingers wrapped around his own. "It's a side effect from that 'cocktail' you were given," the male explained, to which Ichigo simply shrugged his shoulders.

"Right, from the pink-haired girl for the... the money and whatnot. Whew, can we go outside or something?" he said, fanning himself and slumping against the bar top beside Renji.

"Pink-haired girl? You mean the server girl slipped you that drink?" the older vampire demanded to know, fully turning toward the other and gripping onto his shoulders as his eyelids had started to droop drowsily.

"Sure, that gent-... gentleman that died right before S-Shuuhei - he gave her money and other stuff earlier today, so it... so it must be, right?" Ichigo said, his body gaining more weight with every passing second, getting heavier and heavier. "But still, where did all the people go? Is there a party going on? Oh, can we go to the party? Please, please?"

The teenager was unaware that his slurred speech made it impossible to understand barely half of what he was saying, Renji's inked brows knitting together in the second before Ichigo stumbled off of his position leaning on the bar and sank to the ground faster than a bag of bricks. Fortunately for him, burly, tatted arms caught him under the arms just in time so that he didn't completely collapse on the floor. "All right, I think we need to get you to bed," Renji muttered. "Grimm! Can you come take him up to the room?"

A gentle touch along the strands of nectarine-colored hair stuck to his temple from sweat calmed Ichigo more than he cared to admit, fingertips softly caressing his messy locks for a few far too short seconds until he was lifted up to his unsteady feet. Realizing his eyes had been closed, the orangette opened them halfway to see Renji was supporting his weight to his right side whilst Grimmjow now stood directly in front of him.

"Do I look like a nanny to you?" Grimmjow groused at the redhead.

"Just do it, asshole. Shiro and I need to do some... work," Renji said, guiding the loopy submissive toward the blunette.

"Fine, but if he gets any worse it's your own damn fault," Grimmjow muttered and the next thing Ichigo felt was Renji letting go of him and the other dominant wrapping both of his strong arms around his waist and hauling him upside down over his shoulder like a sack of flour.

"Hey, what- !" Ichigo shouted indignantly, pounding a fist against Grimmjow's firm back. "What are you doing? Put me down! Now!"

"Shut up, for Christ's sakes. You'll wake the dead with all yer howlin'," Grimmjow grumbled authoritatively, one arm holding the younger's hips on his shoulder and one pinning his thighs down to his own chest. "Now be quiet or I'll leave you here for someone else to find. I'm sure they'd think they'd struck gold, discovering a helplessly drugged submissive."

"I am not helpless! I'd take down every single one of them, I would! And then I'd come back for you and- wahh!" Ichigo's rant cut off in a yelp of outrage once Grimmjow's hand smacked his rear end. He heard two bursts of laughter from Renji and Shiro, whom up to this point had been just enjoying the show. "How dare you, you... you... ugh!"

For the duration of Ichigo's rage, Grimmjow walked them through the dinner hall and then back out to the main lobby where a fine brass lift waited opposite the clerks desk's. "Get out," was all the blue-haired vampire had to say to the lift's operator for the youth to run for his life out of the thing. Then, still carrying a now quietly steaming Ichigo, Grimmjow pushed the lever and they started to rise up inside the building (something that even in his state of mind Ichigo could appreciate as he'd never been inside an elevator, a recent invention.)

The lift stopped at the top floor, chiming its bell as the doors opened to reveal a luxurious, lavish, and grotesquely extravagant room. Seriously, it was almost sickening how opulent the place was, only this first room bigger than Ichigo's chambers back at Kuchiki Manor and filled with exquisite furniture that was at the height of fashion. There was even an exotic, rainbow-feathered pet bird perched in a golden filigree cage hung by a cream silk wingback armchair. For it to impress Ichigo, who'd lived in the lap of luxury since he was six, was enough to express its magnificence.

"Tch, what a waste," Grimmjow scoffed, shaking his head, yet he continued to stride across the hotel suite where from his position upside down behind the other's back Ichigo surveyed everything in the room that must've cost a small fortune. There were even paintings signed by famous artists displayed on the walls and the rarest of fabrics shipped from Hueco Mundo and other far off places in the West and South embroidered on the furniture.

Ichigo knew his gasps of wonder were audible and he thought he heard a chuckle come from above him but his senses were on overload by all of the physical beauty around him he didn't much care. He didn't actually mind that it was only once the two of them reached a set of double doors that Grimmjow set him down. Swaying back and forth a bit, Ichigo watched as the other male flung open the doors and revealed a porcelain and silver dream of a bathroom, the clawfoot tub itself on a raised platform and large enough for three grown men to fit comfortably inside.

"How could you possibly think all of this-," Ichigo paused to spin around on the tiled floor of the bathroom, "is a 'waste'? It's... beautiful."

"You sure are less of a whiny brat when you're drugged, kid," Grimmjow said and said brat looked over to catch eyes with the dominant, remembering at the sight of jewel-like cerulean blue swirling and darkening like a mystical whirlpool that all of this shallow prettiness could never compare to true beauty. "Take a cold bath, yer practically sweatin' through your clothes. There're towels over on the rack there so be finished and covered up in twenty minutes when I come back, ya hear?"

"A cold bath?" Ichigo questioned inanely, unable to put pieces together in his foggy mind. All he could focus on was the intensity of that fiery blue gaze he was blessed enough to have focused on him. Really, that color blue wasn't found anywhere natural or man-made and he was lucky enough to witness it. "Has anyone ever told you your eyes are... wonderful- like water and fire mixed together, the sea and the sun are looking at me right now and it's... like perfection."

There were few times in which he would ever see Grimmjow seem so openly taken aback, and this was one of them. The raised eyebrows, the parted lips, the wide eyes - Ichigo saw all of it, yet in a millisecond it was gone. "You don't make any sense, kid, but that'd be the drugs talkin'," the blunette brushed the profession off, stepping back out of the bathroom and taking hold of both door handles. "I'll be right outside these doors 'till yer time's up. Oh, and try not to hurt yerself or do anything else stupid, I don' feel like havin' to explain to Shiro and Ren that you drowned or somethin'."

The doors shut forcefully with a dull thud, leaving Ichigo alone in the expansive bathroom. He was irritated about what Grimmjow had said about how it would affect him if anything happened to the orangette. It was like he didn't care at all, not the slightest bit, about Ichigo's welfare.

"Ugh, God, I'm so stupid," Ichigo groaned, plopping down on the edge of the tub and slouching forward defeatedly. He couldn't believe he'd totally minded if that cocky son of a bitch didn't care about him any more than the ransom money, didn't care about him, like a person or like a friend or maybe even like a...

Standing to his feet, Ichigo eagerly began to shed his clothes, the heated feeling on his skin definitely still bothering him a great deal. His waistcoat, shirt, trousers, socks, shoes, and lastly undergarments all dropped onto the floor and he sighed, glad to be out of those restrictive garments in his condition. Manipulating the knobs on the state-of-the-art tub, a miniature, ice cold waterfall rushed out of the faucet, and plugging the drain, Ichigo sank into the sweet relief of the chilled water. Sighing and lying back with his eyes closed, he vowed never to finish that last line.

Ichigo was sitting on the edge of the tub yet again, this time soaking wet and wrapped in the softest of towels, when Grimmjow burst through the door at exactly twenty minutes later on the dot. He grunted in approval that the orange-haired vamp had done as he'd ordered and jerked his head for the other to follow him out of the room. However, Grimmjow had also rid himself of some garments, his lower body still clothed but his entire torso - masculinely toned arms, shoulders, chest, stomach, waist, hips, and back all totally bare to Ichigo's gaze. And in the intoxicated state the younger male was in, he was helpless to his own body's reaction.

Ichigo bit down hard on his lower lip, his already dazed, hooded stare swelling up with admiration and lust. Not quite understanding what his body was doing, he rose slowly from the tub's edge and sauntered across the room, something he'd done approximately not even once in his whole life. It was a natural exercise, he found, to sway the hips and extend each step as if to elongate shapely legs and draw attention to the primally attractive lines of the body.

He got it, too. The attention, that is. He could practically feel Grimmjow's gaze on his legs that were bare from just above the knee down and up to outline of his body through the tightly wrapped towel and finally then to his naked shoulders and neck, his wet, chaotic hair dripping rivulets of water over the flawless flesh there enticingly. Ichigo had never experienced such a reaction like he was currently having to any kind of attention, always uncomfortable whenever it was upon him.

It was the drugs talking, he knew that somehow, and Ichigo just didn't care. He was loving the ardent expression burning in those blue eyes he was drawn to like a moth to a flame, the same potential lethality of the attraction only making it more delicious.

Suddenly, Grimmjow coughed and spun back the other way, speed walking to wherever it was he wanted he wanted Ichigo to follow him to. Confusingly disappointed, the submissive did his best not to stumble into anything or over his own feet due to his impaired coordination, some of the smaller pieces of furniture he swore he could see moving.

Through another set of doors was one of the bedrooms in the suite, two queen-sized, canopy beds bedecked in heavenly white, plush bedding, including a thick, ivory striped duvet and a mountain of pillows so enticing Ichigo wanted to jump on one of them and never move ever again. It actually rather reminded him of his bed back at Kuchiki Manor and had to maintain very strong self-control over himself not to give in to his anger at being stolen from his home that still very much smoldered in his gut.

"Bel sent some pyjamas up," Grimmjow said, clearly referring to the folded set of light purple satin pyjamas on the bed closest to the window. "Put 'em on and get in bed so you can sleep off whatever was in your drink."

"Where are Shiro and Renji?" Ichigo couldn't help but ask.

"Looking for something. They're sleeping in the other room so you won't see them 'till morning," Grimmjow explained nonchalantly, angling away from the towel-clad boy and showcasing something the latter had never seen before.

"You have a tattoo," Ichigo stated, taking in the sight of the roaring panther that painted most of Grimmjow's bronzed back, the number six inked tilted to the left in the negative space on his lower back.

"Do I, now? Thanks fer lettin' me know," the blunette said sarcastically, dropping onto the edge of the other bed and tugging off one of his boots.

"Why a panther? I thought those were in Hueco Mundo's forests, prowling around in the jungle's trees and eating stray villagers and tourists," Ichigo said, a bit too eager to find out more information about the beasts. He hadn't read much on them in his studies since Byakuya considered foreign studies an advanced subject not to be touched upon until one was an adult, insisting one must know their own culture back and forth before learning of others. "Have you ever seen one?"

"Yes, several times, actually." Grimmjow seemed rather smug about his experiences with the carnivorous cat. "They're all over the uncultivated parts of Hueco Mundo."

"Really? You mean I could go and-..." Ichigo trailed off, the mind-altering substance he'd ingested beginning to wear off and common sense returning.

"And?"

"Never mind," the teenager said, waving a dismissive hand. "I won't be visiting the jungle anytime soon. You know, the whole marriage and rearing children career path doesn't particularly allow vacation time to take trips to the southern islands."

They were both silent for a while, neither of them moving. In that time they could've been marble statues that were part of the hotel suite's marvelous decor.

"Don't give in to that bullshit, kid," Grimmjow broke the silence. "If you want to visit the jungles in the South or the icy Northern sea or the Eastern outdoor markets - hell, if you want to go to the damn moon no one can stop you. You're your own damn person. "

"But-"

"Freedom is not taken away, but freely given, Ichigo."

It was not lost on the youth that Grimmjow had used his actual name, but he was much more concerned with what else the dominant had said. That last statement had caused his chest to expand with so much hope and determination he thought it might burst.

Ichigo grabbed the set of lavender pyjamas from atop the duvet and rounded the bed so that the canopy sheets maintained his modesty whilst he changed into them, despite the fact that the sheer fabric they were made of made the outline of his side visible, especially when he bent over to pull the pants over his legs.

When he drew the curtains back and slid into the ridiculously comfortable bed, he allowed himself to steal a glance over at the other man in the room. Grimmjow was lying in his underwear on his back, arms folded up behind his head and his eyes closed yet Ichigo knew he was definitely awake.

"Thank you," he whispered into the silent room. "I still hate you, Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, but... thank you."

As expected, there was no response and Ichigo let his lashes flutter shut, curling onto his side facing the blunette. Sighing heavily, he realized his plan was failing miserably for instead of him showing his three captors kindness they seemed to be showing it to him.

He was back at Kuchiki Manor, in his old study where he'd poured over countless books. Sunlight streamed in through the shuttered windows and everything was peacefully quiet, only the turning of pages sounding in the room of absolute zen.

Ichigo was reading a large volume on the native tribes of Hueco Mundo, illustrated drawings depicting their wildly interesting spiritual rituals. In one particular portrait they were dressed in rich, vibrant colors beaded in gold that matched their elaborate jewelries, some of which were placed in piercings completely taboo in the society of Rukongai. They also all carried musical instruments, mostly percussion items like animal hide drums of varying sizes, tambourines, and wooden blocks. However, some of them appeared to be playing flutes whittled from the green-stained bark of jungle trees, crudely constructed harps and mandolins, and, strangest of all, a clearly Rukongai citizen playing the violin.

They were all circled around a fire pit that a woman in the community was standing before, chanting a passage in their native language that was inscribed within the book, something he could somehow understand as a prayer to protect the life inside of her as she was with child. Having dusted the flames with some kind of purple powder, the smoke had risen two stories high into a swirling column where different animal forms could be deciphered as they arose from the fire - a wolf, a scorpion, a horse, a monkey, a stag, and then a panther.

The strangest image, however, was the pregnant woman's hair.

It was orange.

It was exactly the same color of Ichigo's hair, which he'd believed unlike any other living soul's.

"Mommy, what is it?"

Ichigo immediately tore his gaze away from the illustration to where the voice had come from, the speaker the most breathtakingly beautiful little girl he'd ever seen.

Sitting on a stool too high for her feet to touch the ground, dressed in a light pink, lacy frock, and reading a copy of one of Ichigo's most beloved children's book, the diminutive beauty around seven or eight years-old brought a smile to his face. She was a vision, indeed, with long, thick hair scarlet red plaited into a braided bun while two chin-length curls were left loose on either side of her doll-like face. Well, to be honest she made any porcelain doll look like an old hag in comparison, her skin paler than china white and just as perfect. And she had big, sapphire blue eyes that only stood out all the more with her unique, gorgeous coloring. She had to be an angel, because Ichigo already loved her.

"Mom, are you listening?"

Ichigo tried to speak but he found himself paralyzed, sending panic racing through his system. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he talk to this little girl who'd somehow captured his heart without saying a word?

"Mom?"

Ichigo awoke gently despite the slightly disturbing dream he'd had, the gentle rays of light peeking through the curtains, and he realized the mere symbol of his discomfort were that his hands were clenching onto the sheets for dear life.

At least this dream vision hadn't ended in those cryptic, horrific depictions as they normally did.

"Ya 'ad 'nother vision, didn' ya?" a pleasingly distorted voice sounded seemingly out of nowhere, making Ichigo gasp and sit up instantly, He located the culprit sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with a small, throwing knife.

"Good morning to you, too," Ichigo spat sarcastically, not wanting to discuss the contents of that particular dream to Shiro. It was just too... intimate, for the moment. He threw the covers off of him and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "What time is it?"

"Nine-thirty. Would'a let ya sleep later, but ya gotta come see this!" Shiro said gleefully, grinning like a complete loon. He gripped the orangette's wrist and dragged him to his feet and toward one of the oak dressers inlaid with gold designs. "'ere, I 'ad a whole wardrobe fer ya made since yesterday," the white-haired vampire said, opening one of the drawers and tossing a piece of red fabric and many others over his shoulder and onto the bed. "Put these on quick 'er ya'll miss it."

"Miss what, exactly?"

"Ah, ah, ah," Shiro scolded playfully, tapping the tip of Ichigo's nose. "'S a surprise, bu' jus' trust me. Yer gonna love it."

And with that he left the room, gracious enough to allow the orange-haired youth to dress while alone. The outfit picked out for him was actually decent, Ichigo discerned once he was fully dressed and examining himself in a body-length mirror. The shirt, trousers, and shoes were all black (and far finer than anything he'd ever worn and therefore far too expensive.) However, the cravat and waistcoat were bright crimson which he'd never dared to don until now, though he'd grown quite fond of the color.

It made him think back to his vision of the little girl tied a knot tight in his stomach, wanting to see her again and wondering if she had really been calling him 'Mom.'

"Ichigooo?" Shiro's voice broke through his thoughts, apparently this the third time he'd tried to get the other's attention.

"What? Yes! I mean,... " Ichigo trailed off and grabbed the light gray overcoat meant for him, striding toward where Shiro was standing in the doorway, eying him curiously. "Let's go."

"All righ', my pet," Shiro said, wrapping an arm around Ichigo's shoulders which he quickly shrugged off. "Yer really gonna love me fer showin' ya this. Mayhaps I'll even get a kiss in return from tha fair prince Ichigo, hmm?"

"I doubt that would even happen in your dreams, Shiro," Ichigo deadpanned, though when they were in the lift he tilted his head away and let the smallest of grins pass over his face for no longer than a second.

Traveling through the streets of Junrinan without a carriage or buggy was insanity to a country boy like Ichigo, never having really been 'in the city' before then. There so many people - tons of them - and one had to weave and bob around all of them just to walk down a city block, many of which one inevitably bump into and apologize to for a response that consisted of either a glare, a frown, a grunt, or a foul-mouthed verbal retort.

"What's wrong with these people?" he hissed under his breath to Shirosaki. "Why are they all so angry?"

"Ah yea', fergot ya'd lived tha charmed life," Shiro said, laughing a little while the chilled autumn wind blew his long locks of snow white around his face in a way Ichigo would never admit to being enchanting. "If this were a few years ago, I'd tell ya tha's jus' city life, cupcake. But now thing's 'er a lil' different."

"Different how?"

"'Ello, don' ya 'member yer lil' run in wit' tha Watchmen?" Shiro asked, quirking a brow and his lips to the side as they stepped off the sidewalk to cross another street clogged by carts and buggies and people. "This 'ere is tha human part 'a town an' most of 'em wanna see us all excommunicated from tha province, whether willin'ly 'er in a pine box. Ya ain' gonna fin' many friendly faces 'ere."

Just then Ichigo searched the area immediately around the two of them, catching all of the nasty stares and disgusted sneers being sent their way. Subconsciously, he sidled closer to Shiro and hoped that whatever the other wanted to show him was close by.

"So, care ta tell ol' Shiro wha' yer vision was 'bout this time?" the albino asked almost carefully, glancing down at Ichigo with concerned gold and black eyes, appearing so genuine that Ichigo decided he could trust the vampire as a confidant with this one thing.

"Well, it wasn't like the others... at all," he started, looking away from Shiro's searching gaze. "I was reading a book in my old study at the manor, something on Hueco Mundo and its natives. There was a picture where they were performing some kind of ritual to bless a woman who was with child. She... she had the exact same color hair as I do, which is... odd, considering I've never met anyone who has before. Then-..." Ichigo trailed off, chewing the inside of his cheek and pondering whether to tell Shiro something so personal as the vision he'd had of that little girl.

"Then wha'?" Shiro urged him on gently in a tone softer than the teen had ever heard him use.

"Then I heard someone talking to me. They called me... "Mom'." Ichigo confessed, exhaling heavily. "I looked over at this girl, who was maybe eight at most, and she was just so... so perfect. But I couldn't talk to her, it was like I couldn't do or say anything. The last thing I heard was her calling for me, for 'Mom', again and then I woke up. W-what do you think it means?"

He hadn't realized 'till then that they had stopped on a street corner while he desperately told Shiro of his vision. "I think, Ichi, tha' ya were lucky 'nough to see yer little girl 'fore she's even been born."

"But how can you know that it really was... her?"

"Just from tha way ya talked 'bout 'er, like she was yer whole world," Shiro informed him seriously, all of his usual playfulness gone. "All ya can do is wait ta meet 'er, I suppose. Unless, ya can learn ta control yer ability."

"And how do I do that?"

"Hmm, tha bes' way I can think 'a is ta ask those who 'ave an' try they methods. Like, fer example... me, Shiro, an' Ren. We learned tha 'ard way, too, ya know." Ichigo wasn't able to answer, or even ask if he could know what Renji's ability was, already, because then Shiro was brusquely leading him along once more. "Now, let's 'urry, ya don' wanna miss this, trust me."

Shiro snatched up Ichigo's hand and began dragging him through the crowded streets at a steady run, their vampire senses the sole thing keeping them from knocking everything over in their path as they practically did a joint obstacle course.

"This is what you wanted to show me?" Ichigo blurted as they slowed to a stop in front of the city stables. He wasn't exactly disappointed, he did truly want to check up on Zangetsu, but he would've thought Shiro had something much... well, more planned.

"C'mon an' I'll show ya," Shiro insisted, leading the younger vampire into the pungent smell of the stables and past the horse stalls to where there was a pasture right in the middle of the city for the horses to graze and get some exercise. Ichigo barely had time to register everything in sight when suddenly there was a six foot three, close to two hundred pound mass of rage in front of him.

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill that beast of yours, Kurosaki!" Grimmjow roared right in his face, causing him to instinctively take a step back as his mouth dropped at the sudden assault. "What the fuck do you think yer doin' - riding around on a goddamn stallion and letting it 'round nice, decent mares like it can resist that kind 'a temptation!"

Ichigo blinked, totally clueless as to what Grimmjow was ranting about.

"Well? I'm waiting! What excuse do you have for that?" the blunette shouted, pointing behind him to the far end of the pasture and directing ichigo to where Zangetsu and the white mare Pantera were grazing happily together, occasionally whinnying at one another and nudging each other with their noses. "And you should've seen them earlier, ya little brat! Hasn't anyone ever taught ya 'bout what happens when a male animal sees a pretty young thing 'cause I'm very willin' ta teach you my-self."

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Ichigo yelled right back, gesturing toward their steeds. "They're just grazing together, you idiot! Or is that too indecent for your filthy mind to handle?"

"Listen, you-"

"Hey!" a rough, deep voice sliced through their shouting match, Ichigo not needing to look to know it was Renji's voice. The redhead had his hand firmly around Grimmjow's bicep, holding him back, and Shiro was gripping onto the submissive's shoulders, both not realizing how close to each other they had gotten, faces practically inches away. "Let's calm down, right now. Grimmjow-"

"What?" the male spat.

"It wasn't Ichigo's fault what happened. Stop being a complete bastard and blame me for letting them out there together," Renji told his friend, tone low and quiet but utterly commanding. "He doesn't even know what they were up to out there, anyway."

"Tch, well tell him, then, while I go rescue Pantera from that thousand pounds of worthless carcass," Grimmjow growled, ripping his arm free and turning away.

"Hey, you son of a bitch, I-!" Ichigo started, infuriated at the insult directed toward Zan. Nevertheless, he got the message and fell silent when Renji held up a palm, shaking his head. The redhead once again had a black bandana around his head and his hair tied back, though this time it was in a braid that fell over shoulder which Ichigo had to admit was a good look for him.

"Jus' leave it alone," Shiro said from behind him. "Sorry, darlin', I didn' think he'd yell a' ya."

"So this is what you brought me here to see? Our horses getting along with each other?" Ichigo demanded.

"Well, let's jus' say they were 'gettin' along' a lot better half an 'our ago," Shiro giggled, sidestepping the orangette and running a pale white hand tipped with black nails through the mussed spikes of orange hair atop his head, as if petting him. "Though, perhaps yer too young fer tha' sorta thing, anyway. Wouldn' wan' tha' desirable, virginal quality ta be tarnished fer yer future groom, isn' tha' righ'?"

"Go to hell," Ichigo brushed Shiro off, used to the male's teasing ways, and facing Renji. "Is it true? Did Zan and Grimmjow's Pantera really... you know?"

"Several times just this morning, actually," Renji said, laughing whilst he led an unfamiliar horse from the stables by the reins. Ichigo flushed, trying not to imagine his beloved Zangetsu doing anything of that nature. "Some good will come out of it if she bears any colts outta this, though. Pantera and Zangetsu are premium examples of the thoroughbred species; any offspring they have will be magnificent. Hey, maybe this could be the start of your career in raising horses."

Renji grinned genuinely, unclicking the buckle from his horse's reins and running a broad hand through the gorgeous, russet brown gelding's thick mane. "I think you love them just as much as I do, if not more," Ichigo said without thinking as he'd been tending to do more and more often - engaging in friendly conversations with these three vampires who'd kidnapped him for ransom. "What's his name?"

"Zabimaru," Renji stated proudly. "He's been waiting here for me for nearly a month."

"I bet he missed you," Ichigo said, smirking a little as the horse in question moved his large head in his own direction and began sniffing his hair. The teen didn't hesitate to raise a hand and pet Zabimaru's powerful neck, threading his fingers through the coarse chestnut brown mane. He accidentally brushed his hand against Renji's, a shock like he'd been electrified zinging through his entire arm and he automatically snatched it away as soon as possible.

Meeting Renji's deep burgundy eyes for a fleeting second, the submissive tore his own from then and the mysterious power they held over him.

"Um, so what about you Shiro?" Ichigo blurted, trying to dispel the tangible tension between he and the redhead. "Do you have a horse?"

"Yea', once," the albino said, a touch of nostalgia in his voice attracting the younger right away. "'Er name was Getsuga - white jus' like me an' big brown eyes tha' could always get me ta give 'er an extra sugar cube. She left this world as' year."

"How did die?" Ichigo questioned, remembering just afterwards that it wasn't the appropriate response to the revelation of someone's passing. Nevertheless, he did catch Shiro and Renji exchanging a glance before the former answered.

"Like a warrior."

The quiet that reigned over the next minute was heavy and profound. Ichigo searched his mind for what Shiro could've possibly meant by his cryptic answer. Did he just mean the horse died with grace or succumbed to death without fuss? Or could he possibly have meant that-...

"Damn you, ya stupid animal! Give that back. Right. Now." Grimmjow's voice boomed over the pasture to where the other three were standing and what Ichigo immediately sent him into a hysterical fit of laughter.

Apparently when the blue-haired male had tried to put the reins on Pantera and drag her away, she'd refused, wanting to stay with her newfound love. He guessed then Zangetsu had come to the rescue of his lady love, stolen the reins right out of Grimmjow's hands and was now running around with them in his mouth whilst the man chased him down, having difficulty gaining on the stallion without any gear to grab onto.

The scene was so funny to Ichigo, who hadn't had this kind of entertainment since being kidnapped out of his bedroom, that soon he was doubled over in laughter, tears forming in his eyes. He heard Shiro and Renji chortle at their friend's predicament, though not nearly as hard as their youngest.

"Glad you find this so funny, Kurosaki," Grimmjow snarled from halfway across the pasture. "Because in about five seconds, I'mma shoot this damned horse of yers."

Considering Grimmjow might just be crazy enough to do it, Ichigo managed to stifle his guffawing into little peals of laughter that slipped past his lips every other second and approached the blunette and two horses, Zangetsu galloping in a circle around Grimmjow with the reins in his mouth.

Ichigo only had to stand in a firm stance and brought two fingers to his lips, whistling sharply. Zangetsu instantaneously slowed and trotted over to his owner, looking rather pleased with himself. "Zan, give them to me now," was all Ichigo had to stay and the stallion dropped Pantera's leather reins into his outstretched hand.

"Good boy, Zan," he cooed, rubbing the animal's nose lovingly. "You can have all the sugar cubes you want. Yes, you want that, don't you? Good boy! Now, get."

Zangetsu whinnied, shaking his head, and then promptly trotted off back to where his pretty Pantera was waiting. Smiling triumphantly, Ichigo approached Grimmjow and tossed him the reins. "There you go," he said teasingly. "Next time, just ask for help from one of the more experienced riders, okay?"

Oh, he would savor the look on that man's face for the rest of his life.

Ichigo swaggered his way back past the two other dominants and to the stables, fully intent on filling the bag of feed in Zangetsu's stall full of his beloved sugar cubes. When he walked in there was a boy perhaps a year younger than him, dark-haired and short, cleaning out the individual stall's with a pitchfork. "Excuse me," the submissive vampire said, causing the boy to glance up at him once. But the second time, his jaw dropped and eyes went larger than teacup saucers.

"Y-yes, sir?"

"I was hoping you could tell me where the sugar cubes are," Ichigo explained, wondering why his mere presence made the boy so nervous. Then he noticed that the young male had tattoos on his forehead that were eerily similar to a certain redhead's.

"Of course, sir. Anything for a friend of Master Renji's," the boy stammered, bowing and pointing over to the main barn house. "They're just inside there, next to the bags of apples. I can go get them if you-"

"No, no, it's fine," Ichigo brushed the offer off, serving up a polite smile and nod before heading in the direction the boy had pointed out. "Thank you," he said in farewell, letting himself in the barn through the giant wooden doors. Surprisingly, there was not a soul in the place save for a sparrow fluttering about in the rafters. Scanning the space, Ichigo spotted the stock of sugar cubes in the far left corner and jogged over to them, picking up the bag that appeared fullest. Satisfied, he made to turn around and return to the stables but was blocked by a firm, solid chest.

"Ah, what the-!" he yelped, clutching the bag of sugar close to him. "Wow, congratulations, Grimmjow. You managed to scare me. Should I start the applause?"

"Do I scare you, Ichigo?" Grimmjow rumbled, his demeanor dark and overwhelming, an aura of masculine power radiating from him and his hooded eyes the color of the ocean during a storm, thunder and lightning and all. "Because last night you certainly didn't seem scared of me."

"L-last night I was drugged, you... you know that." Ichigo swallowed harshly as he was backed up against the wall, the blunette's arms coming up to encase him there. Grimmjow was so close, too close, and his body was going haywire, every nerve a hundred times more sensitive, every sense becoming too acute for comfort, like how he could smell the manly musky of a forest after the rain wafting off the blue-haired dominant.

Dear lord, but even that last word sent a fire through him.

Yes, dominate me.

"Damn it, you drive me so fuckin' crazy with your little game of 'hard to get. Especially when I know you feel it, too," Grimmjow growled right in his ear. "Just give in, just say it. You know you want to..."

"I... " Ichigo gulped, not able to think straight whatsoever. He thought of burgundy and black and gold and almost pushed the dominant away, but he couldn't. His need was too strong. "I do. I want you, Grimmjow."

A snarl of victory was all that escaped the blunette's mouth and then his lips were locking with Ichigo's, rough and strong and dominating just like the vampire himself. It was the orangette's first kiss and though he didn't know what to do, he felt it. The bag of sugar cubes fell to the floor and he clutched Grimmjow's bright blue hair with both hands, tilting his head to the side and letting his lips be kissed and bitten raw.

He would never be prepared for the complete manic chaos that would be upon them when the door swung open to reveal their hot and heavy lip lock to one pair of burgundy orbs and one pair of gold.


	9. Painful Pleasures

He was such an idiot.

If Ichigo could've gone back in time a single minute, he might've thought twice on his trade for one moment of bliss in exchange for such a horrific maelstrom of his own emotions and the actual physical pandemonium. Dear lord, why couldn't his visions have shown him the outcome of this?

Once he met those two pairs of shocked eyes, Ichigo tried to shove an oblivious Grimmjow away yet never got the chance as the next moment he was watching, absolutely stunned, as the blunette literally flew backwards across the barn and crashed against the opposite wall. Wood splintered and broke at the collision, the male sliding to the ground in a crouch and snarling, already prepared for a fight with the redhead whose hand was outstretched.

Those tattooed brows were fiercely knitted together, Renji appearing angrier than Ichigo had ever seen. Had he been the cause of the attack on Grimmjow? If so, how had he done it? Yet there was not only Renji to think of, a flash of white and black dashing through the barn to materialize over the blue-haired male, Shiro clenching the other's collar and wrenching him up and back against the wall.

Grimmjow growled lowly, grabbing hold of the albino's wrist and elbow in some sort of grappling move because the next second Shiro had been flipped onto his back on the hay pile there. They both snarled at each other like rabid beasts, baring their sharpened incisors and for a moment Ichigo believed they would rip each other's throats out before he could do anything. However, then they both moved - Grimmjow thrusting back against the wall like he was pinned there and Shiro sliding over the ground to lay completely still save for his savage expression.

"Stop!" Ichigo cried out desperately to Renji, knowing for certain he was the one controlling the other two's bodies by force - his ability. "Just stop it right now! Please, don't fight anymore..." he trailed off, staring at the redhead with wide, pleading eyes.

Suddenly both Shiro and Grimmjow inhaled greedily, as if they hadn't been able to breathe, and they all three moved to stand about five feet away from each other in a triangle. "Ya fuckin' liar," the white-haired vampire hissed at Grimmjow. "Ya said ya 'ad no feelin's fer tha kid. Why? Was it so ya could use an' abuse 'im 'fore we got ta Seireitei where ya'd leave 'im high an' dry jus' like tha rest 'a yer whores?"

"Why do ya care so much, ya sick bastard? Is he who ya were moanin' 'bout during your 'private time'?" Grimmjow accused harshly, his teeth gnashing together as he spoke. "That's right, I heard you, ya freak."

...

"Wha' did ya jus' call me?"

Shiro's tone was deadly, his unique eyes narrowing into slits and his ebony fingernails grazing the handle of his pistol.

"Shut yer damn trap, the both of ya!" Renji shouted. "The two of you both broke our one god forsaken rule and now ya've compromised our entire operation!"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so quick ta talk, ya little maggot!" Grimmjow barked, striding forward one step to point accusingly at the redheaded vampire. "I've seen the way ya look at him, the way you touch his hair and wouldn't even let us cut it to protect his identity! And let's not forget your oh so romantic interlude back at Kuchiki Manor!" He stepped back, opening his arms out to the side for dramatic effect. "Explain that, bastard!"

"'ey, we mighta slipped up a lil'," Shiro snapped, moving in between the two infuriated vampires. "But you, Grimmjow, were jus' caught fuckin' kissin' 'im!"

"Spare me that shit, Shirosaki. The two of ya are jealous that he picked me," Grimmjow gloated smugly, smirking as he gave a bark of laughter. "Ha! That's right, gentlemen - me."

"I swear I'll-"

"If ya don'-"

"Everybody, shut the bloody hell up!" Ichigo yelled over the commotion, interrupting whatever insult or promise of bodily harm Renji and Shiro had been about to say. "Are you three seriously fighting... over me? I-I'm your hostage, your ticket to a large fortune and a luxurious retirement - the person you stole from their own bedroom and have been holding against their will ever since! What in the world is wrong with you people!" He was panting quite heavily by the end of his rant and still not one of the three dominants said a word. They just started at him intently like always and he found it a complete and utter outrage.

"Oh and by the way, I can kiss whomever I please, understand that? It's very likely that if either Renji or Shiro would've been the one to corner me, I would've kissed them just the same because I don't know what's going on inside my own head most of the time!" Ichigo clutched fistfuls of his hair, pulling at the strands in pure frustration.

"Ichigo-..." they all three started at the same time.

"No, don't you dare say my name!" he hissed, upper lip curling back to reveal his own set of fatally sharp fangs and his fearsome look was so much so that the three dominants were immediately silenced. "I don't know what kind of games you're playing, but you're all evil bastards for it. One second you're nice and sweet and then the next you're back to being my cold, distant captors and yes, maybe if the world was different and you weren't criminals I would actually like you. But this... it's driving me mad! ...I-I just can't bear it any longer."

And with that Ichigo huffed heavily and stormed out of the barn, arms crossed in front of him protectively as he pushed through the barn doors and out onto the city street. He didn't know where he was going, only that it was away from those three men he thought he might love.

Ichigo just walked away, going down street after street, block after block. The buildings and landmarks all looked the same and therefore he was utterly lost. He didn't care, though. He was already lost within his own mind so why not be actually physically lost as well? No sense of direction or time or anything...

Several shady characters asked him if he needed some assistance to which he'd all replied with a furious scowl. He may be sheltered and definitely naive but he knew how to read those kinds of people. Now if only he knew how to read beautiful men with heads full of brilliantly colored hair and eyes so intense he could feel the wound they left when they pierced through him.

A few hours after the traumatic scene at the stable barn it began raining. First just a weak drizzle, then steady sheets of water, and then an outright thunderstorm. Ichigo was soaked to the bone within seconds, his new clothes completely ruined and clinging to his body uncomfortably.

He searched for shelter where he would have no interaction with anyone, which took about twenty minutes until he spotted an open air stand completely empty save for the wooden kiosk and a small but sufficient green overhang above that. He sat behind the stand on the dirty cobblestone street under the overhang, huddling together in order to conserve the warmth he was rapidly losing in the bitterly cold autumn thunderstorm.

Lightning cracked through the sky overhead, illuminating the empty street and Ichigo was grateful that it looked to be in a neighborhood where the well-to-do lived in townhouses during the season (not that he'd ever been able to attend, technically not being of noble blood or from a wealthy family.) He'd heard how awful it was from Rukia, though, how anyone in such select circles would backstab their own mother if it meant climbing another rung on the social ladder.

God, he missed her, his best friend, his sister. He missed Rangiku, too, the sole woman who ever came close to fulfilling a maternal role for him. He even missed Byakuya, so much so that if he were to see the dark-haired nobleman right there on the street he'd run up and give the man a giant hug.

He wanted to go home and see his friends, so why was there such a miserable, torturous pang in his heart at the thought of leaving his captors behind?

Half an hour passed and the rain still did not let up the tiniest bit, the heavens pouring sheer waterfalls of water that flooded the streets and soaked through Ichigo's shoes. He didn't see a single soul in those thirty minutes, either, but that was until a luxe carriage drawn by two blonde Arabian horses nearly screeched to a halt in front of his hiding place.

The door opened, a figure hard to make out through the curtain of rain stepping out and onto the street, an umbrella held aloft in one hand. They continued to make their way toward the place where Ichigo was curled into a ball on the ground and they were almost directly in front of him when he recognized them.

"Ichigo," they greeted. "We have been quite worried about you."

"You didn't have to come and look for me in this storm, Miss Halibel," Ichigo insisted, rising to his feet and wringing out his overcoat. "I just... needed some time alone."

"Mmm," the blonde woman, donning a dark green dress embroidered with silver and a matching hat with peacock feathers fastened along a spot on the brim, even her umbrella the same deep olive shade. The shade brought out the color of her eyes, they appearing so sedate and even still somehow animated. "I think you have had enough time alone. Come with me, I wish to speak with you."

Halibel placed a gloved hand on his shoulder and Ichigo knew going with the woman was not optional so he allowed her to guide him into the carriage parked on the street. "We'll be headed back to the hotel now, thank you," she told the driver while gracefully ascending into the carriage car. After a deep breath, Ichigo followed in her footsteps, closing the windowed door behind him.

The carriage car was as luxe as he'd expected of the wealthy vampiress, plush seats and curtained windows trinkets compared to the table set for afternoon tea between the two benches. "Here, this should warm you until we arrive back at the hotel and you may change," Halibel said, handing Ichigo a thick winter cloak that he promptly wrapped around his shivering body. "I've been informed you have not had your fill today, so please drink up."

She gestured lightly toward the tea set, Ichigo now realizing the steaming pot was filled with not Earl Grey or Oolong but fresh blood. The intoxicating scent of it called to him and he eagerly tilted the porcelain spout over his teacup, filling it with the blood he now realized his body craved dearly.

Ichigo sipped deeply, sighing silently at the delicacy that was the exquisitely clean blood he drank. He'd developed that acquired taste all vampires do, the ability to tell what kind of person had donated the life liquid they consumed. The blood he was now savoring had definitely been supplied by someone young, healthy, and vital and he could feel the energy being restored to his very bones.

"Thank you," he whispered to the other passenger who merely nodded her head once.

"You are welcome, Ichigo. I admit I was quite worried I wouldn't find you first so that you might enjoy some of my finest selection," Halibel said, tone smooth as glass. "Though I must admit, all I was informed of was that you had run away from your protectors. May I ask why?"

"They are not my protectors," Ichigo muttered roughly, setting his now empty teacup back upon its saucer.

"If you say it is so," Halibel conceded. "Nevertheless, you have yet to answer my question."

The orangette flushed he assumed bright red, avoiding eye contact with the blonde across from him. He knew that Halibel would be able to decipher a lie if he told one and on the other hand he really did not wish to convey the events of that morning. "It's rather... complicated," he said, scratching the back of his head.

"I am sure I can keep up."

"Haha, yeah," Ichigo laughed nervously and then swallowed harshly, taking a deep breath as he prepared to face judgement for his actions. "You see, when I woke this morning Shiro took me to the stables. He found it quite hilarious that my stallion, Zangetsu, had mated several times with Grimmjow's mare, Pantera, of whom he's quite fond. Zan actually managed to swipe the mare's reins from him and I had to step in and retrieve them. Admittedly, I too thought it was... ahem, humorous. I even teased Grimmjow a little bit before I went inside the barn for some sugar cubes to feed to Zangetsu, to thank him for that brief form of entertainment when everything has just been so... so manic since I was taken from my home.

"I was in the barn when Grimmjow came out of nowhere and cornered me. Um, he said... some things and well, he wasn't exactly wrong. I don't know if it's these crazy submissive hormones or my own mess of a conscience but I did want him as he said I did, and I admitted to it."

"How very exciting for a first kiss," Halibel commented, her cool green orbs beaming behind her facade of composure.

"Yes, it was. And then Shiro and Renji walked in on us," Ichigo confessed, slumping forward miserably as he recalled the following events. "Renji used his power to pull Grimmjow away from me and then Shiro attacked him and then they were all shouting at each other - something about them breaking their one single rule, whatever that might be. I couldn't bear listening to them argue so I shouted over them that they'd all lost their minds to be fighting over someone they plan on selling to the highest bidder. That's when I ran for it... " Ichigo trailed off, the hot prickling behind his eyes embarrassing and unwelcome.

"I cannot imagine how you must feel. I am so sorry, Ichigo. I have only ever heard stories of vampire women and submissive men with this particular predicament so I am afraid I will not be of much help," Halibel sighed, reaching over to wipe away a stray tear from the orangette's cheek in a motherly fashion.

It simply made Ichigo wonder what in the world his own mother would think of him. It's difficult enough to love one mate.

But to love three...

To love three men whom had kidnapped him to hold him for ransom and practically ruined his entire life? How does one deal with that, let alone live with it? He couldn't be with any of them, or all three, and this poisoned him from the inside out, bitterness coursing in his veins. He wanted to be angry, to scream and yell and break things, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything, yet he had to.

So what was that going to be...?

By the time the carriage arrived at the entrance of the La Lavande Royale, the rain had stopped and night had fallen which meant Ichigo had been aimlessly wandering the city for almost the entire day. He felt it, too. He was so tired all he wished for in the world was to collapse onto a soft surface and sleep, if merely to escape from his life a few hours.

Halibel didn't leave his side the entirety of their trip through the lobby, up the elevator, and into the suite he shared with the three males who owed him his sanity back. "You should change and try to sleep a while. I will keep the others out of this room as long as I can," she said, turning away and inside the lift once again. "Until then, perhaps you should listen to something aside from your mind. It may speak to you louder than you even know, Ichigo."

Then she was gone, disappearing down the elevator shaft, and the teen was on his own once more. One would believe that being alone would help one clear their mind and figure things out, come to a conclusion. But all Ichigo felt was alone.

Taking Halibel's advice, he shed his wet clothes and donned just a pair of sleeping pants, falling into the cushiony bed like it was his grave.

The sole shred of fortune Lady Luck blessed him with was the sleep he so wanted and within a moment of lying there his eyes fell shut and slumber took him under.

For the second time in a row, Ichigo was back at Kuchiki Manor, the comfort of home washing over him welcomingly. This time, however, he was in the rose gardens near the stables on a warm, sunny spring morning, the droplets of dew still precariously dripping from the delicate petals of red, white, and pink.

He knew in his very soul that at this particular point in his life everything was perfection. He couldn't ask for anything more than what he had right then and there.

"Mom! Mom, look what I found!" a young girl's voice called out to him and Ichigo eagerly turned toward the origin, laying loving eyes on the diminutive figure of the same redheaded girl from his other vision. This time her radiant scarlet hair hung loose in soft ringlets, appearing even brighter against her pale as snow skin and vibrant, ocean blue eyes with thick, dark lashes. And now Ichigo noticed that there was an ever so slight dusting of freckles across her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose, exactly like his.

"What did you find?" he questioned, the adoration he had for this little girl pouring through, and bent down to her level. She held a large volume in her hands detailing the various flora of the world, the book open to the page about blood roses that only grew in Hueco Mundo, yet this was not what the girl was so excited over.

Stuck by someone in between the pages was a black and white photograph, a treasured keepsake taken during Yuletide and depicted Ichigo standing in front of the decorated fireplace in the main parlor cradling a small bundle wrapped entirely in swaddling clothes save for her beatifically peaceful face overwhelmed by big blue eyes. There were three other men in the picture, standing in a line directly behind Ichigo and their various physical features - ivory skin, blue eyes, and red hair all represented in the tiny little thing they all stared at in utter devotion.

"This was right after you had me, right, Mom?"

Ichigo tried to say he didn't know, that he loved her for finding this photograph, that he loved her already more than life itself. But he couldn't speak, the same nightmarish paralysis consuming him.

"Mom?" the little girl questioned, sounding frightened by his sudden condition. "Mom!"

The vision around Ichigo burned away like a match had been set to paper, darkening everything and he was left in total blackness. He couldn't speak still but he stood upright, glaring at the darkness for whoever waited for him there. He could feel another's presence.

"Don't worry, 'Mom'," a voice cackled. "She's not real, and she never will be. Want to know why?"

Howling wind blew throughout the emptiness and Ichigo raised his arms to protect his face, the wind shrieking like tortured spirits and the sudden frozen air chilling him to the bone. Then out of nowhere, everything stopped and he slowly lowered his arms back down.

A face.

It came out of thin air and rattled Ichigo right to the core, even though to the naked eye it was a normal male's face and figure. His dark hair was pushed back and his dark, beady orbs surveyed the teenager hungrily, licking his lips and salivating like a dog in the window of a butcher shop.

"You and me, Ichigo. We will soon be together forever..."

The rushing wind again, the cold, the horrific screaming, and a girl's voice calling out for her mother, for him.

The torture of not being able to reach her was so great Ichigo woke up shrieking like a banshee.

When his eyes flew open and he shot straight up in his bed, Ichigo never thought he would actually be glad to see his three captors ever again yet he at that point he'd never desired their presence.

"Shiro, help him for Christ's sakes!"

That was Grimmjow but the fingers that combed through his hair were Shirosaki's, his hands guiding the youth's head to the albino's firm chest. "There now, Ichi, yer okay, yer safe. Was jus' a dream an' ya feel calm an' relaxed..."

That distorted voice was music to Ichigo's ears, the older vampire's empathic ability working wonders on his panic and fear, the one thing it was unable to rid the boy of was the need to go back for the redheaded little girl, his little girl.

He didn't know what it was about the women the three dominants were friends with, but somehow they always turned out to be right about everything. There was something calling to him louder than his mind and that was his destiny.

"Better now?" Shiro asked softly and Ichigo nodded, drawing away from the other no matter how much he didn't want to. Letting his gaze wander alongside his bed, he saw that Shiro was at his right, Grimm was at the foot of the bed, and Renji took the remaining spot at his left. "Good, 'cause..."

"'Cause we have something to tell you," Renji finished strongly, his arms folded in front of him with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up so his tribal tattoos were visible. Oh, how Ichigo adored those inked lines. And to think, Grimmjow had a tattoo, as well. Then if Shiro had one, or ten, that would be perfection.

"Well, I have something to tell you, too. All of you," Ichigo said, slipping off the bed onto his. "And you may not like it, so maybe I should go first... and you all could sit down."

Not saying a word, the three dominants exited the bedroom and strolled into the main parlor, reluctantly taking seats in all different points of the room so Ichigo would have to stand and spin around to talk to all of them.

Okay, this was it, no turning back now.

"All right, um... where to start, where to start..." he mumbled, wringing his hands as nerves built up within him.

"Say the hardest part first, then the rest'll be easy," Grimmjow suggested, leaning back on the loveseat with his arms spread over the line of the edge behind him.

"Yeah, just spit it out, Ichigo," Renji agreed from where he sat on one of the armchairs, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Okay, okay, I... I just don't know if I should outright say it because... well, I'll likely sound insane," Ichigo confessed, a peal of nervous laughter escaping past his lips. He cleared his throat with a fist at his mouth and stared at the floor like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "Um, okay, you know how there's that stereotype about submissives, male or female, that they know on pure instinct who their mate should be?"

Silence.

"So it turns out this isn't just some old wive's tale; it's really true. I know because it's apparently happened... to me." Ichigo glanced around at the others, finding their expressions all blank and giving away nothing. "Okay, here's the thing; it's happened to me but three times. I was destined to have three mates, and I know it sounds crazy but there have been cases ages ago where it's happened but what really convinced me that it'd truly happened to me of all people was I saw it, in my visions. I-... I've seen my own daughter and I think she's biologically all of yours, which would mean..."

God, Ichigo hoped they believed him and his wild accusations of what their destiny was.

"Ya mean tha' girl from yer dream?" Shirosaki clarified and received an eager head nod in return. "I mean, I knew she 'ad ta be yers but..."

"She had your skin coloring, Shiro, I swear," Ichigo hastened to explain how he knew that the four of them were all connected by fate. "And Renji's hair, that precise shade of red. And she had your eyes, Grimm, your same exact shade of blue. She's... she's beautiful."

They were all quiet for a few moments, then Renji spoke, getting up to his feet and crossing over to stand directly in front of the orangette. "So you say you see our daughter in the future, but what does that mean about you and us? What does 'mate' mean to you?"

"It means... " Ichigo paused to lock eyes with all three men and smiled softly, knowing for the first time since he'd been taken from his room that fateful he would at last be free. "It means I love you, all of you. My ability in itself is Destiny manifesting herself in my subconscious. I was meant to love you, Shiro, and love you, Renji, and love you, Grimmjow. I could never choose between the three of you, it would destroy me. Do you understand, now? And, is it possible that one day you could learn to feel the same for me?"

"Ichigo, I think we have all loved you for much longer than you know," Renji professed, grasping the submissive's hands in his own. "And I'll be taking that kiss you owe me now."

The teenager hadn't processed what the redheaded vampire had said when soft, full lips caught his own in steady yet chaste kiss, Ichigo whimpering into the liplock and almost breaking his hands free to explore the male's body but Renji pulled away, a half-smile on his face. It should've been awkward, to kiss one man in front of two others he loved, but it wasn't and it was bliss.

"So, maybe now you should sit down for this, because we're dropping all of the lies because you deserve the truth."

"Come sit right 'ere," Grimmjow urged gently, Ichigo immediately obeying and sinking down onto the cushion beside the bluenette, whose heat he could feel radiating from the male's large body. Deciding to risk it, the orange-haired vamp leaned into that warmth and against Grimmjow's side, who did not draw himself or push Ichigo away but instead draped an arm around the latter's bare shoulders and it seemed entirely natural, like they'd always been together. "I gotta warn you, though. After we tell you the whole story, the real story, you might not still wanna be so cozy with any of us."

"A minute ago I told you three I loved you. Do you really think I'm going to shun you forever for whatever it is you've been hiding from me?"

"Maybe," Shiro said, frowning uncharacteristically and making Ichigo's stomach plummet with dread and anxiety. "I know yer father definitely wouldn' approve 'a ya shackin' up wit' three dominants."

"What? My father? He's been dead since I was a baby, I don't even remember him." Ichigo was certainly confused by that statement, Shiro saying that as if...

"We do," Grimmjow murmured. "We remember your father - he and your mother were the only two decent people we ever knew growing up as street orphans."

The marketplace... the three boys... the rain... the door opening... the dark-haired man inviting them in...

"That was my father?" Ichigo burst out, hand clasping over his mouth.

"Ichi?" Shiro questioned if the boy was still with them.

"The other night I had a vision. There were three boys who stole bread from a baker in a marketplace... they ate it but it started to rain and they ended up on someone's porch," Ichigo recalled one of his most vivid visions, tears again springing to his eyes at the thought that he was finally able to put a face to his real father. "The man who invited you in for cookies... that was my dad?"

"You Saw that?" Renji said, leaning forward even more. "Did you see a woman with him?"

"No. No, after that the vision became a nightmare like always," Ichigo said bitterly, scowling at his lap. "I suppose if I had I would've seen my mother after all these years of never knowing who she was..."

"She was tha' bes' woman I ever met in my whole damn life," Shiro spoke up, earning a grunt of agreement from Grimmjow. "Ya know, she was kinda almos' 'xactly like you. An' she was tha best cook in tha entire province."

That statement earned much more vigorous murmurs of concurrence from both Grimm and Renji. "Damn, d'ya remember those little gingerbread men she used to make for us?" the redhead reminisced and though Ichigo was experiencing all of his old emotions at never knowing his mother, his heart swelled up at the confirmation she had been everything a woman and a mother should be.

But there was one thing he had to know.

"Uhm, so you three all knew my parents when you were young," Ichigo restated, chewing on the inside of his cheek due to the nerves welling up inside him. "Do you-... do you know what happened to them? H-how did they... die?"

"Tha's kinda where tha story begins, Ichi," Shiro said, his butterfly knife suddenly back in his hand and twirling around almost as if it were dancing along his fingertips. "Yer parents didn' die 'a no disease 'er famine 'er any bullshit excuse they fed ta ya as a child. Yer mom an' dad... they were murdered."

"W-what?" Ichigo knew he sounded like a child, voice quivering in sync with his lower lip. He couldn't have heard what he thought Shiro had said, he just couldn't. "No, that... why would they... is this some kind of joke?" he demanded, growing angrier by the second and not knowing why. Grimmjow's arm tightened around him and he buried his face in his hands.

"It's rough to hear that, babe, we're not stupid. But you have to know everything," the blunette said, endearingly trying to console the submissive.

"Why? What if I don't know these awful things?" Ichigo spat back, his conscience chastising him for being unfairly aggressive toward the ones trying to explain things to him. "What'll happen if I don't know, really? And how do I know that you all are even telling me the truth when evidently all you've ever done is lie to me!"

"This ain't no joke, Kurosaki! And you'll be in even more danger than ya already are, ya brat," Grimmjow growled right back at him. "Do you want to be killed, or somethin' even worse? No? Then shut yer yap and let us tell ya the real story, got it?"

"Okay, I'll listen to you guys," Ichigo said, expression and tone steely. "But you will stop talking to me as if I'm off my rocker for having doubts about the men who kidnapped me, even if I have feelings for them and not by choice."

"Settle down, Ichi," Shiro cooed gently, holding up a hand, and within a millisecond the orangette's anger dissipated.

"Not fair," he mumbled, folding his arms and definitely not pouting.

"Tha's good, love," Shiro said, flashing a sharp incisor with a quick grin and wink in the other's direction. "It ain't easy ta tell ya wha' we're up 'gainst, so give us a lil' slack, yea'? Thank ya. Now, let's start a' tha beginnin', when Isshin, yer pops, invited us in fer some cookies yer mom was practicin' bakin'. They were tha only people kind ta us since no one wants ta associate wit' three dirty orphans wit' strange colorin' yet they never seemed ta care 'bout tha' - treated us like we their own."

"We started going 'round their house five, maybe six times a week," Renji continued, adjusting his bandana. "They kept us alive, really. They fed us, put a roof over our heads when it was cold or raining, your mom even sewed us new clothes to wear. We loved them - Isshin and Masaki Kurosaki - like they were our real parents. During the entire time we spent with them, Masaki was pregnant, and the happiest woman I'd ever seen because of it."

"Everything went ta Hell in her ninth month," Grimmjow said, picking up the story and staring ahead instead of directly at Ichigo. "She changed. Everything about her was different, she was quiet, withdrawn, and most of the time just sat in this rocking chair in the nursery they'd just finished for the kid. Isshin tried to distract us from her behavior but even at eight years-old we knew something was wrong. Then one day we showed up and Isshin wasn't there and Masaki was sitting in that same rocking chair, crying but not making a sound."

"Ya see, we foun' out years later tha' yer dad was in tha special forces department in the small vampire exclusive militia tha' was supposed ta be kept secret from humans. But someone leaked the information an' tha goddamn Watchmen were created, Isshin Kurosaki one 'a tha vampires they managed ta kill, jus' like Shuuhei tha other day, 'cause somehow they've got a special weapon 'a sorts that'll do any 'a us in."

"That day we sat around Masaki while she silently cried for hours until she finally spoke," Renji said, finally looking up into Ichigo's dark amber orbs glistening with unshed tears. "His name will be Ichigo, she said as she'd seen you in a vision, and he's going to be a Seer like me. Then she made us promise we would always look after you, that the men who killed Isshin would never get to you. We failed her."

"What are you talking about?" Ichigo asked indignantly, voice thick from holding back sobs at the strength his mother had displayed in her final days. "Look at me, I'm safe and sound right here."

"Sheer dumb luck," Grimmjow scoffed. "We stood outside the house all night when she gave birth to you. We were boys who thought themselves men. After you were born, two men - one human, one vampire - snuck past us, killed your mother and took you. It wasn't sixteen more years until we found you again, in the same damn building where one of your mother's murderers were definitely daring to masquerade as one of your suitors."

Ichigo's lip dripped blood from him biting it so hard, shrinking in on himself as the terrible truth of his past weighed heavily upon him. "You weren't there to kidnap me," he said, not gaining any confirmation yet not needing it. "You were... saving me."

"We 'ad planned on pretendin' we were holdin' ya fer ransom 'till we got ta Seireitei an' set ya up in a convent up there so ya'd be safe but then... well, ya jus' 'ad ta be... you."

Ichigo wasn't listening, he was thinking, trying to remember the different puzzle pieces filed away in separate parts of his brain but were quickly coming together to form a full picture. The letter on his bed right before Shiro had grabbed him, the look in those dark, beady eyes earlier that evening, the face in his vision - the dark-haired vampire, the words together forever.

"I know who the vampire is, the one who killed my mother," he said eagerly, shooting upright and meeting three bemused yet intrigued gazes. "At least I know his name and what he looks like."

"And that would be...?" Grimmjow egged him on, left hand clenching into a fist.

"That would be Kugo Ginjou."


	10. Uncharted Territories

That night sleep was elusive.

Ichigo was tired to the bone and wanted to do nothing more than rest for just a little while, but it seemed that was not possible. At least not tonight.

Turning over roughly in the hotel bed for the umpteenth time that hour, he sighed heavily and opened his eyes. Perhaps it was best to give up on sleep for now since the clock read half past one and he'd gone to bed around ten o'clock, so clearly he wasn't getting any rest that night. Sitting up in the swaddle of his pile of blankets and sheets, Ichigo untangled himself from the blasted fabric trappings and sat Indian-style atop them. There must be something he could do to pass the time until Mister Sandman decided to at last pay him a visit...

"Ya can' sleep either, huh?" a voice cut in his mind's whirling dance of thoughts, the orangette turning his head to the left to see Shiro lying on his side underneath a single sheet, the upper part of his bare chest plainly visible even in the dark room.

They had decided earlier that due to a variety of reasons, the three dominants would switch every evening who slept in the other bed beside Ichigo's. Since Grimmjow had done so the previous night, now it was Shirosaki's turn. In fact, this was one of the factors the submissive believed to be contributing to his sleeplessness.

It was nice to have the albino there, but he could help but miss his other two loves. Plus, Ichigo could already tell that mating himself to three different strong-willed, powerful, handsome vampire was going to be a ton of work on his part. Yet, he couldn't imagine starting his new life any other way. Oh, and he could definitely imagine some of the females were going to positively green with envy that they were unfairly stuck with rich nobles three times their age and bland as unseasoned porridge and yet he, a 'nobody' got to have the cream of the crop.

"I can't stop thinking, I guess," Ichigo replied to the other male. "There's so much new information to process my mind is struggling to keep up. It's almost as bad as when I found out I was a vampire - a submissive one at that."

"Ya know, I can help wit' tha'," Shiro said, a light smirk materializing on his colorless but full lips. Ichigo didn't exactly understand what the albino meant by that but he certainly wanted to find out. "C'mon over 'ere." Shirosaki held out a black-nailed hand and the teenager slid out of his bed to cross over to the other's and take that hand.

The white-haired vampire pulled him gently down onto the mattress, Ichigo instinctually lying down facing the other and meeting those bewitching eyes like golden orbs of light forged in the darkness. He threaded his fingers through pale ones and pillowed his head with his free hand, already feeling a bit more at peace. "I think I forgot something earlier," he said, maintaining a cool composure.

"Wha'?"

"Well, it's something like this," Ichigo whispered, leaning up to press his lips against Shiro's. He didn't have to wait hardly a second for a response, those pale lips moving against his languidly, like they had all the time in the world. The slow, passionate liplock ended when Shirosaki broke away, causing the orangette to frown and feel a little rejected.

"Is much better when ya savor everythin', angel, trust me," the dominant said and Ichigo sighed again, letting his head drop back onto the pillow.

"I'm curious about something, Shiro," he said, chewing his lower lip out of habit when talking to any of the three men who made his heart race faster than an Arabian thoroughbred across the desert sands. "Do you have a tattoo like Grimm and Renji?"

"Jus' one," Shiro shrugged the question off. "Nothin' like theirs, though."

"Well, um... can I, you know, see it?" Ichigo inquired. He'd become increasingly fascinated with the inked artworks the men (and one woman) he'd met recently had adorning various parts of their body. In fact, if he admitted to himself the truth he kind of thought getting one of his own would be rather exciting.

"Sure, why not," Shirosaki said, letting go of the younger's hand and sitting upright. He brushed his shimmering curtain of long ivory locks to one side, revealing the black markings of a tattoo on the back of his corded neck. Ichigo squinted in the darkened room to make out the Gothic Medieval script that read Freak across the flawless porcelain flesh there. For some reason, he lifted his fingertips up to the inked area and tenderly caressed the letters. "People use' ta call me it all tha time, 'cause 'a how I look ya know, so I figured if I jus' embraced it then no one could ever use it ta hurt me."

"I understand," Ichigo said softly and Shiro returned to his place lying on his side next to him. "I used to get teased and picked on all the time because of my hair but then I realized i didn't give a damn what any of them believed about me. And for the record, I think you're beautiful."

The second kiss was a complete surprise to the younger vampire, not that he minded. It was deep and bone-meltingly passionate, Ichigo having to pull back just to be able to breathe properly again. He caressed the side of Shiro's face, unable to accept the fact someone could ever think this man was anything but gorgeous. "But I have to ask - why get a tattoo in the first place? You, Grimmjow, Renji, Halibel, Shuuhei - all tattooed someplace or another. It has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"Ya really were sheltered growin' up in tha' manor, Ichi," Shirosaki said in disbelief, shaking his head. "Everyone knows where people - vamps an' humans get tatted up."

"Well, I don't. So, could you please tell me?" Ichigo huffed, really sick of never knowing anything related to worldly knowledge or street smarts. Sure he could recite one hundred of Shakespeare's one hundred fifty four sonnets yet he could barely buy a loaf of bread on his own.

"Then 'member this, all righ'? If ya ever see someone wit' a tattoo it means they were in tha militia fer a long period 'a time - the more ink they've got tha more time likely served."

"So... you were all-?"

"Yea', every las' one 'a us. Am not sure how much ya really want ta know but our abilities got us up tha ranks pretty damn fast an' when tha' 'appens ya gotta deal wit' a lot of shit an' it wasn' easy gettin' out so mum's tha word, got it?" Shiro whispered, mindlessly playing with a strand of Ichigo's hair.v

"I won't say anything, I swear."

"Good. Now, ya can go ta sleep," the empath said, running his hand from the other's forehead to his chin, leaving Ichigo's eyes closed and mouth parted as he finally drifted off to sleep under Shiro's spell. His last conscious thought was how long would his thread in the tapestry of fate take to unravel?

Ichigo woke late the next morning, still in Shiro's bed but lying there alone. There was no sound or sight of him nor the other two dominants as the boy crawled out of bed and peeked through the door to see the empty parlour. Scowling heavily, he scanned the suite for any sign of where they'd run off to and if they had been decent enough to leave a note or something so he wouldn't sit there and worry needlessly, which of course he ended up doing anyway.

Twenty-five whole minutes later, the lift opened up for not any of his three dominants but instead the always impeccably dressed Miss Halibel. Today she was wearing a light blue dress with yellow lace around the sleeves and high collar, a matching yellow rose fashioned in her intricate coiffure. "Good morning, Ichigo. I thought I might find you here, most likely wondering where three certain men have disappeared to," she greeted curtly.

"You would be correct, Miss Halibel," the orangette confirmed.

"That was always their biggest fault - forgetting the littlest of details," Halibel lamented and Ichigo assumed she might possibly be talking about their time together serving in the militia. He hadn't even known women, vampire females as well, could legally sign up. "They no doubt rushed out of here as soon as they received that lead on one Lord Kugo Ginjou."

"A l-lead?" Ichigo questioned, mouth going dry at the sound of the name of a man more of a nightmare than a real person to him.

"Yes, he was spotted gambling at a hotel down the street so of course they rush off without any sort of plan... Oh, those three always give me the worst headaches," Halibel said, wincing and rubbing one temple to relieve some of the pain.

"Well, here sit down," Ichigo insisted, waving her over to the plush loveseat yet she refused, shaking her head.

"I will be fine. I'm only here to ensure you're on time for your brunch time meeting with the informant," the blonde said, looking up to hold the teen's gaze to convey the importance of what she said. "In the dresser you will find a morning suit in ivory with a light yellow waistcoat, put it on fast as you can. You're meeting a human man named Hachigen Ushoda for brunch - he's large with a pink mustache, you'll spot him right away. Introduce yourself as Tenshou Adjuchas, an employee of mine. Treat him to whatever he wants on my tab and make him feel important. He says he has information on what Kugo Ginjou wants with you."

"O-okay, I can do that... I think," Ichigo said, recalling everything the female vampire had just said and steeling himself to do it all properly. "I mean, I will. He already wants to give us the information, right? So all I have to do is make him feel as if he's doing something heroic by being an informant."

Halibel stared at the youth for a long moment. "You would make a fine operative, Ichigo," she said, bowing her head slightly then getting back onto the lift. "Keep your composure and you'll be fine. Good luck."

Then she was gone and Ichigo made a dash for the bedroom dresser, shoving aside garments in search of what Halibel instructed he wear, his upbringing useful for once as he knew precisely what gentlemen should wear to brunch at a lavish place like the La Lavande, He dressed swiftly, adjusting his cravat in the mirror and considering himself decent.

On the way down the lift, Ichigo took several deep breaths in and out, using the thought of what terror he would unleash on those three clueless men when they returned to calm down. Love was strange like that.

He'd taken two steps into the dining hall when he spotted the man he was supposed to be meeting with, the pink-haired and mustachioed male one of the largest men he'd ever seen. Ichigo could decipher from surveying the man that he was harmless, though rather nervous for some reason.

"Mister Ushoda?" he said, walking up to the table set for two. The man glanced up at him, seeming to relax a little, and nodded.

"Yes, but please, call me Hachi. Ah, sit down, please," he said, gesturing to the empty seat across from him.

"Thank you," Ichigo said, giving a close-lipped, polite smile at the other (all of his etiquette lessons useful for once in his life.) "My name is Tenshou Adjuchas, I work for Miss Halibel and will be meeting with you this morning. Is there anything I can get for you? Coffee? Tea?"

"Ah, no. No, thank you," Hachi said, dabbing his perspiring forehead with a handkerchief. "I'd rather not stay for too long, if that's all right with you."

"Of course, I understand you must be a busy man," Ichigo said, knowing he'd seem an imposter if he dropped the formalities of a professional inquisitor. "Shall we get right to why we're here today, then?"

"Well, if that's all right with you, Mr. Adjuchas," Hachi said, winging his handkerchief. "I don't want any trouble or any involvement other than this meeting, it could mean trouble for me, you see."

"What kind of trouble, Hachi?" Ichigo asked, feigning deep concern.

"To put it frankly, I know something I shouldn't about... " the large man leaned in closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "The missing submissive male vampire and my neighbor, Lord Ginjou."

"Oh? What is it that you know?" Ichigo pressed, using all of his self-control not to shatter his composure until after he heard what the man knew.

"I was in the garden and just overheard him, Ginjou, talking to another man who I didn't recognize. All I heard was that they said the boy who went missing was too useful to give up on... I think they might have been the ones who kidnapped him."

"Did they say anything else? Any names or information of that sort?" Ichigo urged the pink-haired man for more information.

"That's all I know, I'm sorry," Hachi said hastily, rising from his seat. "I have to be going now, I don't want anything else to do with this. T-thank you for your time, goodbye!"

Ichigo never would've thought a man of that size could move so quickly through a crowded dining hall and he cursed the man for being such a coward and not listening for more information, though he knew that was unfair. Running a hand through his hair, the orangette stood from the table and walked out of the dining hall, as well.

As soon as he'd heard 'useful' come out of 's mouth, he knew that Ginjou and his mystery associate meant his Seeing ability would be of use to them, though a lot of good he would do them considering he couldn't even control his power. He couldn't think of a single other reason what anyone would want him for.

Then that letter that had been left on his bed popped back into his mind, the entire letter.

The instant the elevator let him off at their suite, Ichigo raced to the bathroom and was immediately sick, retching blood violently at the realization of just how demented this murderous lunatic really was.

It was Grimmjow who found him almost a half hour later still slumped over the edge of the tub where he'd first collapsed, flecks of blood coating the porcelain surface.

"Shit, Ichigo," the blunette cursed, dropping down beside the unwell youth and placing his hands on either side of Ichigo's face to turn it up towards his. Royal blue eyes searched him for some sort of injury or sign of illness. "What the fuck happened?" Grimmjow demanded.

"I got sick... " Ichigo explained, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly despite how weakened he was from the lack of blood in his system. "Keep 'im away, Grimm, I don't want... " Incapable of finishing his sentence, the orangette's eyes drooped and his vision began to fade in and out.

"Stay awake, damn it!" Grimmjow ordered and Ichigo heard the distinctive crunching sound of teeth biting through flesh, something pressed against his mouth the next second and once a droplet of blood fell upon his lips he began greedily gulping down the decadent sustenance, his strength steadily returning. "All right, that's enough for now." Grimmjow ripped his bleeding wrist away, the wound instantly healing itself as the skin knitted back together.

"What the hell's goin' on in here?" Renji burst through the door, taking in the gory scene of splattered blood and a dazed Ichigo.

"I think he was sick and lost all of the blood in his system," Grimmjow said, holding the youngest male upright in his arms. "If we'd been here an hour later..."

"Let's get him onto the bed," Renji suggested, Ichigo feeling the blue-haired vampire easily lift him up bridal style and carry him through the door into the bedroom, gently placing him on the bed. "Hey, Ichi... can you hear me?" the redhead leaned down by the younger's head, snapping his fingers.

"Yes, yes, I can hear you fine," Ichigo snapped, waving away Renji's hand. "Stop coddling me, I just got sick and lost blood but now I'm okay, all right?"

"No, not all right," Grimmjow said sharply. "I wanna know what possibly made a vampire sick to their stomach. Did someone slip you something again?"

"No, no, it didn't happen like that," Ichigo said, shaking his head and propping himself up on his elbows. "I-... I realized something that made me physically ill because of how... disgusting it is. I can't believe... No, I can't even think about it." He buried his face in his hands, wanting to shut it all out of his mind.

He felt the two men sit down on either side of him, allowing him to tell them on his own time. Thank god at least he had them, and Shiro. If he didn't and this was happening, he couldn't think of why he'd even want to live.

"Halibel sent me to meet with this man who's neighbors with... you know and what he told me made me remember the night Shiro grabbed me from my bedroom. Literally right before he caught me, I read this letter that I had forgotten for the most part but now it all makes sense why this lunatic bastard is after me," Ichigo ranted, staring up at the ceiling hatefully. "It said:

"Ichigo,

You will soon know how long I've waited for the chance to meet you after you blossomed into the beautiful creature that you are because we will soon be together forever.

Sincerely,

An Admirer"

A warm tear escaped the corner of his eye and he clapped a hand back over his face, not wanting anyone to see him lose control like an emotional wreck. "He killed my mother, and my father, just because he wanted to make sure he mated me! I never so much as got the chance to meet them and I never will, either, all because of some fucker's sick perversions and it's not fair!"

Ichigo's wild swing brought his fist cracking into the headboard, the wood splintering under his enhanced vampiric strength only increased by his anger. However, upon seeing the damage he had done to another's property, he immediately felt guilt and shame rise up like bile. "Goddamnit! " he swore helplessly, unaware until muscular, tattooed arms swept him up in their embrace that it was exactly what he needed.

Renji just held him, silent and strong like a rock, like the man was holding him to the earth. He stroked the messy halo of nectarine hair Ichigo knew the redhead secretly admired and a kiss was placed on his forehead.

Needing the other man in the room he loved during his inner turmoil, Ichigo reached back for Grimmjow and clasped their hands together. Drawing the blunette close on his other side, he let the two comfort him adoringly, two sets of lips brushing against the skin of his face and neck and hands wandering over his torso and even down to his thighs.

Sighing contentedly, Ichigo allowed Grimmjow to bring him in for a kiss, feeling Renji mouthing his pulse point simultaneously. His anger was rapidly turning into something else and he groped the other men's sculpted chests, switching his liplock from the blunette to the redhead whose tongue swiped out against his parted lips.

It was suddenly too warm in the room and Ichigo moved his fingers down to unbutton his waistcoat, not intending to stop there, and then he realized what this was swiftly becoming, a slight alarm ringing in the back of his mind. "Wait," he breathed, stilling his actions and reluctantly pushing the two dominants back a little. "Wait, this is... this is going a little too fast for me. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, brat," Grimmjow scoffed, his eyes still darkened with lust. "I keep forgetting you're still sixteen."

"Shit, me too," Renji confessed, sliding further away from temptation that Ichigo assumed was none other than himself (which was an incredible boost of confidence to say the least.) "Reminds me of when we were on assignment in the Western islands, except there was no one that looked like Ichi here."

"Damn it, don't remind me of that, or the hell hole we lived in for those six months," Grimmjow grumbled, folding his arms across his pectorals. "Tch, and all for absolutely nothing."

"Uhm... are you guys talking about when you were in the government militia?" Ichigo questioned tentatively, unsure of whether or not it was a sensitive subject. "Shiro told me you guys and Halibel were all in it together at some point..."

"Yeah, only we three got out. Halibel and Starrk weren't so lucky," Renji answered, shaking his head in pity for the latter two. "That's why Starrk's down in Hueco Mundo. Or he was, she says he's makes port at Inuzuri tomorrow."

"So... " Ichigo considered how to phrase his question carefully, picking at his fingernails to appear casual. "Why did you guys leave? Did they not pay you enough or something?"

"Hah, do you see this place we're in? Hali and Starrk make more money than God working for the special ops," Grimmjow laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, you can live out yet entire immortal life in the lap of luxury if you play attack dog to a bunch of brainless, greedy fat cats who've run our government into the ground and the humans and their organizations flourish like weeds in spring. If they'd left well enough alone, there wouldn't be any godforsaken Watchmen or curfews or any of that shit."

"I guess that answers my question," Ichigo said slowly, trying to process all of the different bits of information the blue-haired male had spouted forth like water from a fountain. "But what I really want to ask you two is where the hell have you been all day? Is it that hard to leave a note or anything that tells me you three haven't abandoned me here for whatever reason?"

"Fuck, Grimmjow, I told you we forgot something!" Renji yelled at the other dominant, smacking him upside the head which earned him a deadly glare and probably a counter strike if Ichigo hadn't snatched Grimmjow's wrist in the air.

"Halibel said you found a lead on... Ginjou," Ichigo spat the name he hated most in the world, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Oh we did better than that," Renji said, smirking. "We know exactly when and where he'll be tomorrow night - some masquerade ball at another hotel down the street, The Grand Polar. Shiro's actually gettin' us two invitations to the soiree right now."

"Only two?" Ichigo repeated, wondering who was going to be attending the party.

"Yes, about that..." Renji trailed off, glancing to the side for help from the blue-haired male reclining against the broken headboard, Ichigo following his line of vision to see a devious grin pop up on Grimmjow's face.

"You and I are the lucky couple, sweetheart," he announced, brushing some stray strands of turquoise hair back off his forehead. "We'll blend in the most out of the four of us, you see."

"But won't it be odd for two men to show up to a masquerade ball together?" Ichigo frowned, not liking the idea of being in the same vicinity as that sleazy Lord Ginjou in the first place. "I am the only male submissive in all of Rukongai, after all."

"Exactly, which is why you won't attend as one," Grimmjow said cryptically, clearly enjoying whatever it was he was trying to tell the orangette. "Our invitations will be under the names Lord and Lady Pantera Adjuchas, so we'll be no different from any of the other married couples and do our reconnaissance mission completely undetected."

Ichigo was fatally silent for a good few moments, staring at the infuriatingly smug blunette blankly. Then he brought his hands up under his chin, pointer fingers directed at the older male as he at last spoke. "Do you want to repeat that last sentence for me? And yes, I am giving you the opportunity to change it should you feel it very neccessary."

"Come on, darlin', don't be difficult," Grimmjow crooned, jutting out his lower lip. "This is the best way we can get the information we need to get rid of that pathetic excuse of a man. It's just for a few hours."

"Just for a few hours!" Ichigo snapped, roughly shoving the blunette and turning to Renji with pleading eyes. "You're not seriously thinking about making me do this, are you? It'll be utterly humiliating, not to mention a whole other risk if I get discovered!"

"Look, I know it seems insane but trust me, we've considered every other alternative and... well, since you're a submissive you're the only one who can pull it off," Renji tried to explain, squeezing the youth's shoulder. "Is it really that awful when doing it could help us get rid of the bastard?"

"Yes!" Ichigo insisted, but deflated visibly as he saw the reasoning behind what his dominants were asking of him. "But I guess... maybe, just this one time. And only because it'll be one step closer to bringing my parents justice after all these years. Oh, and one condition: no, and I mean no corsets."

The evening of the ball Ichigo was distressed to find that Halibel did not get the memo.

"Oh my God, I think you broke one of my ribs!" the orangette wheezed, clutching his side as the blonde woman tightened the ladies undergarment around his waist.

"Just relax your abdominal muscles and try not to take deep breaths," Halibel advised him, earning a horrified look from the teenager. Why in the hell would women put themselves through such pain to look just a little bit better? It was sheer lunacy!

Currently they were in the female's dressing room, her extravagantly extensive wardrobe containing feminine garments that could fit Ichigo, including a massive ball gown she'd had a seamstress let out and tightened in the right places to suit the male's figure. They'd been in there for over an hour and yet all Ichigo wore were a chemise, stockings, drawers, and this torture device they called a corset. "There, all done," Halibel announced as she tied the ends of the corset's ribbon's into a bow.

Yet, they were still far from done, the female still needing to fasten a slim petticoat sewn in the latest trend of a large bustle in the back around a woman's rear end, the shape held up by metal wiring she referred to a hoop skirt and that he should be grateful this wasn't the previous decade when women wore hoop skirts with circumferences five times larger. Ichigo just grinned and bore it as Halibel slid the final piece on which was the actual dress itself, which he'd barely given a second glance until it cinched into place along his figure.

It wasn't ugly, at least. In fact, Ichigo might think the dress rather nice if he were not the one wearing it.

The fabric was a sea foam green satin, the pattern along the dress in varied shades of similar greens that winded along the fabric almost like snakes. It was a low-cut, off the shoulder style, the sleeves voluminous at the top then gradually thinning to perfectly encircle his wrists. Thankfully, Halibel had also asked her seamstress to sew in padding along the chest to give the appearance of a female bust.

"I tried to make it as least horrible as I could," the blonde said while Ichigo grimaced at his reflection in the body length mirror. "I chose the color to complement your haircolor. I'm surprised they were able to dye a hairpiece the same shade as your natural color."

Oh, had Ichigo forgotten to mention the elaborate wig complete with braids and curls that formed an intricate updo popular with the noblewomen he was now wearing? And the face paint Halibel insisted he wear so he could pass for a woman? Looking at himself he was actually growing quite terrified of how effeminate he now appeared, wanting nothing more than to rip the - okay, gorgeous - dress off and wipe off his face and rip that stupid hairpiece off his head.

He knew he was a submissive male, and maybe he did have a tapered waist and thicker eyelashes and shapelier legs but he was still a man, damn it. This had all better be worth it.

"These are the flattest heels I could find that matched your dress," Halibel said, presenting forest green shoes fortunately made in a big enough size with only a two inch heel. "I also brought you one of my masks." The latter item was a handled porcelain mask shaped to cover just the upper part of the face, gold and green glittering designs curling around the eyes.

"Thank you for all your help with this... act of pure madness," Ichigo said, only half joking as he slid on the shoes that felt too narrow at the toes but were doubtlessly the best fit he would be able to find before the ball started.

"Don't worry, no one will suspect anything after all the work we've done," Halibel said, opening the door to the rest of her personal chambers. "Remember to stand up straight, chest out, and try not to talk too much, your voice is the only thing that might give you away. If someone tries to speak with you just giggle and nod, that's what they expect from us ladies, anyway."

Ichigo fiddled with the handle of his mask as he made his way down to the main lobby, his nerves aflame that someone would point at him and call him out for being a man dressed as a woman, even though he knew Halibel had done a frighteningly good job at disguising his male attributes. Yet he still hesitantly stepped out of the elevator and into the relatively busy lobby, his heart racing as his actual masquerade was put to the test.

Several people glanced his way and Ichigo began to think the worst until a man perhaps in his mid-thirties bowed before him, tipping his hat and greeting him with a "My lady." Exhaling in relief, but not too heavily due to the corset, the orangette wondered where Grimmjow was, the two of them supposed to meet there and then head out for the ball.

A low whistle caught his attention and he span around, unused to the pounds of fabric that swished about with him. However, he was caught completely off guard by how exceptionally debonair his blue-haired dominant looked tonight. Grimmjow was dressed in his finest that night, black formal tailcoat, highland pants, lace up boots, bow tie, and top hat to complement his white formal dress shirt and scarlet red aristocrat vest. He also carried a dark cane with a silver top shaped in the head of a wild cat with an open maw full of sharp fangs.

"Hmm, I guess you clean up nice," Ichigo spoke first in a soft voice so no one overheard his baritone coming from his mouth.

"Perhaps, but I am nowhere even close to you, darlin'," Grimmjow said, grinning as he gave the other's entire outfit another once over. "I definitely picked a keeper to be my little woman."

"Where's your mask?" Ichigo hissed under his breath to distract from the flush heating his face, though it might've not even been visible under the rouge painted onto his cheeks. Withdrawing something from within his inner coat pocket, Grimmjow brandished a similar porcelain and cat-eye shaped mask, only his was plain white and had ribbons to tie it securely around his head.

"Shall we, dearest?" the blunette said, holding out his arm that Ichigo knew he had to take due to ridiculous societal standards.

"Can you at least try to make this as painless as possible for me? Please?" the teen nearly begged whilst they strolled out the lobby onto the street where the carriage was waiting for them, he definitely not in the mood to go along with Grimmjow's usual playful teasing. The man didn't answer until after he'd helped Ichigo into the carriage car, the ample skirt of the dress actually making the process much more difficult than usual, and closed the door behind himself, tapping the roof with his cane twice to spur the driver onwards.

"Just stay calm tonight and you'll be fine. I just needed a companion to attend this ball with me so I could scope out... the target, so you won't have to do much except try to stay out of the limelight, though I don't know if you'll be able to in that dress."

"Aren't we supposed to be married? I'll simply giggle and say that I'm taken in a girly voice. Halibel says it's practically a woman's oldest trick in the book," Ichigo said, shrugging so that the fabric of his dress rustled annoyingly. "And I expect to be repaid with a very big favor after this."

"Whatever you want," Grimmjow conceded, tilting his cane down toward the floor and it wasn't until Ichigo felt the chilly air travel up his skirt did he notice the man was lifting his dress up to peek at what lay underneath. Apparently sufficiently distracted, the blunette lost the cane in the next second as the submissive yanked it out of his grip and twirled it upside down, stabbing the silver panther head into the top of Grimmjow's foot.

"Fuck! Ah, what was that for?"

"You were peeking up this stupid dress, idiot!"

"So? You're my wife, remember?"

Ichigo's retort died on his tongue as the carriage rolled to a halt, announcing they had arrived at The Grand Polar where the masquerade was being hosted. He rose his mask up to his face, watching through the slits as Grimmjow tied his own on, and then the door opened by the hand of a footman.

Exchanging glances one last time, they exited the carriage and prepared to literally waltz right into the lion's den.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I feel as though for those that have read my other stories I should do the Monty Python voice and say "And now for something completely different!"
> 
> I'm really challenging myself with this fic. I want to incorporate mpreg in a way I would enjoy reading it, along with the fact Ichigo will fall in love with three different hotties and won't prefer any one of them (Renji's not getting any special treatment just because he's the first to appear.) And it's somewhat historical.
> 
> A few things I want to clarify...
> 
> 1\. This is not a "Who will Ichigo end up with?" kind of fic. No, eventually he will be happily involved with all three of his romantic interests, that being Renji, Shiro, and Grimmjow.
> 
> 2\. This will have an actual plot tied in with the romantic fluff and drama, I promise.
> 
> 3\. The story is set in the fictional province of Rukongai which I've made extremely similar to Victorian era England.
> 
> 4\. I will be switching the other main character after Ichigo every new chapter. This time it's Grimmjow because I'm at home in the GrimmIchi fandom, but the next it will be labeled with Dark Ichigo and after that, Renji, and then starting over again with Grimm. : )
> 
> Let me know what you think? Worth continuing or not? I love the idea for this story, I really do, but I realize it's incredibly taste specific and can only hope there's someone out there who likes it at least a little!


End file.
